


Warden (Of The Land), Primal (Of The Sea)

by FrozenMarVel



Series: Aquaman!Merthur [1]
Category: Aquaman (2018), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - DCEU, Aquaman!Arthur, BAMF Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Badass EVERYONE, Gaius is so done, M/M, Mera!Merlin, Mordred is a little shit, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), Pining Arthur, Prince!Merlin, Protective Arthur, Slow Burn, Uther is nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-04-23 04:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMarVel/pseuds/FrozenMarVel
Summary: “Atlantis has always had a King,” said Merlin, a worried frown settled on his features. Arthur longed to kiss his worries away, were it not for the impossible task still ahead. “Now, it needs something more.”The Trident’s recovery a constant weight on his shoulders, Arthur returned the intense gaze of his gorgeous companion. “What could be greater than a King?”“A Hero.”---Arthur is a half-human, half-atlantean warrior, popularly known as the Aquaman. Following his world saving feat with his fellow League heroes, he does his best to use his natural abilities for the good of humankind. Enter captivating, fierce Merlin, a Prince of the Seas, who insists on Arthur’s help to stop his power hungry half-brother King Mordred from forcefully uniting the oceanic people to conquer the surface world.The Kingdom of Atlantis needs its one true heir to take the throne, but can Arthur set aside his anger at the people who murdered his Queen Mother for bearing a half-breed? Amid Primordial Creatures, Legendary Weapons and Powerful Sea Sorcerers, Arthur must stop a great war and save everyone, while enduring Merlin’s irresistible self.Easier said than done.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Funny story: after watching Aquaman 2018 (awesome!), I saw someone asking on Tumblr what would Arthur and Mera’s ship name be. Merthur came to mind immediately, and this was born. Because Obviously.
> 
> Also, I felt I would be terrible at properly writing British English so I didn't even try. I apologize if it seems strange considering the original BBC Merlin TV series, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless. If anyone wants to help me translate it to the appropriate English connotations, phrasings, wordings and such, you are very welcome to message me.
> 
> Be Marvelous, people!
> 
> \---
> 
> Beginnings: Arthur grows up, from a motherless child, to a prince in training, to a League member and a decidedly heroic individual.

~~~*~~~

 

**Introduction**

 

As early as Arthur could remember, his mother had been the sun around which they revolved. His father had been a happy man, and young Arthur was the most loved boy in the entire world.

 

She was beautiful, she was fierce, and she was selfless.

 

Sometimes, during his darkest moments, he hated her for it.

 

Once, he had felt like no monster could ever harm him. Ygraine, with an unassailable presence as deep as the ocean, seemed strong enough to chase them off. Uther and Arthur were safe in the knowledge that Ygraine would hold their perfect little family together, forever.

 

But then she didn’t. And the monsters came to take her away.

 

That terrible day haunted his nightmares, in the shape of loud sounds, blurry images and the memory of the resigned, sad deep sea blue eyes of the woman who meant everything to him.

 

For Ygraine, born to be Queen of Atlantis, left them behind to return to the place she had escaped from, to a marriage she had dreaded and to a fate she had feared. That place would become her cage, and later her end for the crime of bearing a child of human blood. She did all this, to protect them.

 

She left, and she took his father’s smile with her.

 

Yes, Arthur had hated her for her willingness to sacrifice herself, for a son that surely should not have been reason enough.

 

So he grew up, knowing from an early age how dark the real world could be. For the longest of times, Arthur had closed himself off from others and turned away from all he could be.

 

Willingly.

 

Bitterly.

 

Then, the Bat showed up. The League was formed. The world was saved.

 

And Arthur had named himself Aquaman. No longer hiding, but rather using his strength, his potential, to save those who could not save themselves.

 

He would never again be that child, unable to stop the inevitable. He would do his damnedest to ensure no other child felt like that.

 

Thus, a warrior was born.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**9 Years Old**

 

Young Arthur had always known there was something fundamentally different in him. Something that set him apart from the other children. Uther had explained, as best he could and after swearing him to secrecy, that the reason was his mother’s origins.

 

Arthur had vaguely understood that Ygraine was not human, and as such he was not either. Not entirely.

 

But this difference, what his dad said made him special, was not driven home until that school trip to the aquarium.

 

The cacophony of voices were rejoicing in his presence. Those echoes in his mind came from the numerous sea creatures across the glass. That prideful, protective shark that had aggressively answered his unspoken distress, was now basking in Arthur’s attention.

 

Arthur had been delighted and mystified in equal measure. He could feel a change in the air, which swept around him until it focused on his eyes.

 

(He would later notice how his own deep sea blue eyes had gained a sort of fluorescent icy blue glow inside his irises. Sometimes they would also glow aquamarine. Uther theorized that it depended on Arthur’s moods).

 

He turned around and looked at his classmates and the other people in the exhibition.

 

He could see, through the low lighting and on the shadowed corners of the room, certain colors sharpen and others blur. However, clearer in the faces of his peers was fear, of the creatures at his back, of himself, or of the unknown.

 

It did not matter, for Arthur knew this had changed everything. His blood, once dormant, had been triggered and the prince had come out.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**10 to 16 Years Old**

 

Gaius had been a surprise.

 

Here was another like his mother. A man who had shown up on their dock, clad on a midnight blue bodysuit with a wicked spear on hand.

 

Uther had been terrified and angry, but had calmed down upon seeing the seemingly proud sea man drop to his knees in Arthur’s presence.

 

Then his dad had been mad at him for coming out, when he had specifically asked Arthur to hide.

 

Gaius introduced himself as a messenger and advisor to Queen Ygraine. Arthur was delighted; Uther was wary.

 

That had not mattered for long. Gaius had come to train the young prince on the ways of the sea and he would not be deterred. They started right away.

 

Arthur’s abilities were exciting, and they challenged all he had learnt in school. The human world, Gaius said, was vastly different to the ocean and its folk.

 

The first few years, Arthur was made to master himself.

 

Princes of the Sea needed to first know themselves thoroughly: what they could or could not accomplish on their own, to better serve their people. Gaius’ words became repetitive after a while, but when Arthur asked how many Princes there were and whether he could meet them, his teacher became evasive and silent.

 

Then, Gaius came and brought with him another. A few years older than Arthur, Leon was what was called a high born, of noble blood, sworn to serve Atlantis and its throne.

 

Gaius explained that it was time for Arthur to master others, by way of fighting to be the best he could be.

 

Leon was, at first, cautious and slightly mistrustful. He appeared to look at Gaius doubtfully and disbelieving half the time. The other half was spent evaluating Arthur against an unknown measure. He seemed to find him wanting.

 

Arthur, used to the looks his classmates sent him, was actually over the moon. Here was another like his mother but younger, closer to Arthur’s age who could possibly understand him better. So they took to sparring together, forcefully at the start but getting skillful with time.

 

Leon got to know him, and to enjoy his time on the surface. Arthur got a new friend to train with. Brawling, Gaius would say, was no proper way of fighting, but both youths would often ignore him. It was the most fun Arthur ever had.

 

So Arthur learnt. He swam, he played, he fought. All for the promise of a tomorrow where he would meet his mother, hug her and love her as she deserved.

 

But promises were meant to be broken. And for Arthur, Atlantis became a beautiful lie that had to be buried, deep in his heart. For who would condemn a woman for loving another?

 

The quindent was flawless, with a pearlescent gleam. Gaius gifted it to Arthur, from his mother. Another lesson, to master it as someone of royal blood was meant to.

 

Yet, Arthur had had enough of deterrents and assurances of soon but not soon enough. His mother’s weapon, beautiful and deadly as Arthur knew Ygraine to be, was no substitute for her. Thus, he asked one last time.

 

Leon bowed, disheartened and fearful. Gaius stood proud, firm and stoic.

 

It was then Arthur knew, before a word was spoken. But, with his heart on his throat, he listened.

 

The Queen had another heir with Atlantis’ King by the traditions of her people?

 

Arthur had a younger brother named Mordred?

 

Ygraine was found guilty of betraying her nation by laying with a human and bearing him a son, breaking her marriage vows?

 

His mother was **dead**?

 

Anger and desolation swallowed him, and he was _done_. No one on the sea kingdom would care for the half-breed son of a betrayer, Queen or not, so why would he care for them?

 

Leon acquiesced, reluctant but loyal to his Prince. Gaius tried to change his mind but ultimately failed. And his dad? He refused to accept his mom’s death, hopeful to the very end. But he accepted Arthur’s decision to leave the ocean and everything to do with it behind. Proud of his son, no matter what, Uther still tried to get him to use his abilities for good, as Ygraine would have wanted.

 

(Needless to say, Uther had been ecstatic at the news that the Aquaman had helped save the world.)

 

~~~*~~~

 

**1 Year Ago**

 

Underwater battle was another monster altogether. Knowing this made Arthur want to slap himself; he really should have let Gaius continue his training, at least until it included this. Well, you lived and you learned.

 

Steppenwolf was a beast himself; more trouble than he was worth, but Arthur could never really let things go. The outpost had been one of many he had seen through his travels on the ocean, but never approached. He knew what it guarded however. An attack here he could have never ignored.

 

Also, the Bat’s words kept ringing in his ears, the self-righteous prick.

 

Saving the life of the pretty, sexy little fish was something Arthur was still on the fence about. Slender, fair-skinned and black haired, the man had probably been someone important judging by the crown he was wearing.

 

Arthur had let his eyes wander down the figure framed by the tight bodysuit, possibly lingering on the length of those legs...

 

Then, he about swallowed his tongue when deep blue eyes had flashed gold in the dark ocean floor, and a massive air pocket was created around him and the stranger. Those golden eyes were really something.

 

The conversation that followed brought out a fascinating - and highly frustrating - amount of sassiness from the stranger’s coral pink lips.

 

The man did not need to convince Arthur to help with the boxes and Steppenwolf. That had been a given. The atlantean armor Arthur asked for, on the other hand, was very useful later.

 

Arthur had decided to throw his lot with the Bat and the others, and went on to fight a, technically, intergalactic war.

 

He had seen and lived through weirder things. Although, he never forgot that magical little fish.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Present Day**

 

Uther was calling again. Arthur could never keep track of time zones. He should probably answer, but his head was still pounding from the previous night’s revelry.

 

This quaint little village in the north was one of his favorites. Figured his father could still manage to reach him there. He supposed the Bat had used Uther somehow to find him before.

 

It had been about a year since the war debacle. He should pay a visit to his brooding, rich friend.

 

The phone in his pocket vibrated again. Right.

 

Maybe visiting his home waters first was a better idea. After some more drinking among friends; happy hour was approaching.

 

“Mister Aquaman, sir!” a young sailor was running towards him. _That_ name had caught on quick.

 

Arthur thought about jumping into the sea. Maybe he hadn’t seen him?

 

“Wait, please!” the boy was now bent over, trying to catch his breath. What were sailors teaching their young’uns nowadays; no stamina whatsoever. “T-there’s been a-an attack!”

 

“What do you mean? Where?” Arthur asked, grabbing the boy’s shoulder and helping him up.

 

“On the radio, a message came in! A submarine is requesting aid, pirates are attacking them!”

 

Arthur sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration. He never could catch a break.

 

“Coordinates?”

 

The boy swallowed forcefully and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket. A couple of older sailors were rushing closer, but Arthur had all he needed.

 

The blond took out his phone, removed his jacket and shirt, and handed them all to the boy.

 

“What’s your name?” he asked, looking intensely at the youth.

 

“A-Adrian”

 

“Ok, Adrian. I’m gonna go now. You, guard these with your life” Arthur requested, patting the boy on his shoulders, hard enough to almost make him fall.

 

“Yes, sir!” was the enthusiastic response. Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes, and walked off to the rocky shore. He dove, got his bearings and shot off into the open waters. He had a date with some pirates.


	2. An Enemy in the Making

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur unknowingly creates a vengeful enemy for himself.

~~~*~~~

 

**Somewhere in the Arctic Ocean**

 

Arthur swam fast towards the submarine. Noting the strange ship attached to the roof of the Russian vessel, he figured the pirates were already inside.

 

He shrugged, no time to waste then.

 

Without stopping, Arthur swam to the sub’s rear and crashed against the propeller. Then, he proceeded to the underside and grabbed hold. Straining his arms and shoulders against the watercraft, Arthur pumped his powerful legs and swam upwards.

 

The submarine surfaced violently before retaining balance and remaining adrift. Arthur pulled himself aboard, blond locks dripping on his eyes before he swept them back, and walked to the hatch. Deliberating, he decided against kicking it in and just opened it.

 

Inside, silence reigned for a moment before the rumble from automatic weapons discharging reverberated. Bullets ricocheted against the open door of the hatch, and Arthur held a hand up to protect his face before jumping in.

 

The pirates continued their indiscriminate firing, probably surprised at Arthur’s invulnerability to their ammunition but too well trained to stop their attack.

 

Arthur sighed, rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. This would be a nice warm up.

 

A few minutes later, the intense fire power being directed at him halted. Arthur had successfully found and knocked out all the pirates in that level, disabling their weapons and rummaging their suits for anything that could identify them. Finding nothing, Arthur turned to a crackling communication device lying nearby. A voice was requesting a status update from the other end.

 

It seemed there were more. Even better, the voice questioned if the vessel’s crew had somehow gotten out of the torpedo room where they had escaped to during the initial infiltration.

 

With a new goal in mind, Arthur made his way along the submarine, quickly reading the layout and directions along the walls and frames.

 

Upon finding what he was looking for, Arthur walked briskly to the sealed door when a sudden punch snapped his head back. Apparently, there was a pirate guarding the entrance. He turned to look at his opponent, and smirked.

 

Making quick work of the guy, Arthur stretched his neck, ready for a break back at his favorite bar. The things he did to fulfill his annoying noble impulses. This was surely the Bat’s fault. Or maybe his father’s.

 

Arthur unsealed the door, greeted the stunned crew on the other side, scolded them for making him miss happy hour and, ultimately, lead them off to the hatch to escape.

 

Because, of course, everything was going too well for Arthur in this day, bullets started raining on him and the few remaining officers, injuring one. Immediately, Arthur interposed his body between the escapees and the pirate.

 

Where were they even coming from? Did they multiply by osmosis?

 

This guy moved differently, though. Measured steps, lethal grace and equipment that packed a punch more noticeable than the others, this one was carrying himself like a commander.

 

Having no choice than to lead him away, Arthur jumped down a sub-level. Grumpy guy followed, completely ignoring the huddling officers by the hatch.

 

It seemed that these pirates were not here just to assassinate anyone specific, kill everyone or disable the vessel. Something else was going on. Arthur had no time to ponder, however, before big scary guy was onto him.

 

After exchanging a few blows (this guy was good), mister not-very-nice-pirate started thanking his lucky stars for meeting the Aquaman (oh great, he was one of those). Arthur held himself still, staring at the blades that had released from the other man’s armored wrists.

 

“I have been looking forward to meeting you, Aquaman” said the man, with an ugly grin. “My name is Alvarr, I hope you are prepared for me”.

 

Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes (very unprofessional). It was as if villains of any shape, form or intergalactic origin attended the same seminar for cliche villainous behavior. It was always something along the same lines.

 

“Now, you will remember me!” Alvarr roared, launching an upper hand swing with his right sword, while coming low with his other one.

 

Arthur used the heel of his palm to parry the swinging wrist of Alvarr upwards, before deciding to let the low swing reach his side. Alvarr’s triumphant grin faltered, seeing as the sword did not dig into skin nor drew blood.

 

Arthur’s atlantean durability was very effective against human threats.

 

He trapped the sword against his side with his arm, and brought his other hand down hard on the junction that connected the sword to the armored suit.

 

Alvarr screamed as his wrist broke under that devastating blow. The sword snapped clean off from the suit, and Arthur quickly bent it out of shape. Seeing that Alvarr had forgotten that he had another sword under the pain of broken bones, Arthur straightened and eyed the rifle that his opponent had discarded in favor of the hand-to-hand approach.

 

“Please, let’s not make a habit of meeting each other, alright?” said Arthur, ready to dive for the weapon and disable it.

 

Before he could, however, a yell from the other end of the room distracted him before a resonating boom preceded a rapidly approaching missile with Arthur as the target. The explosion shook the room and echoed in the watercraft. The blast sent Arthur back, hard, against the hull of the submarine. He fell heavily, face down to the floor.

 

A relieved, incredulous laugh escaped Alvarr, who turned to see the man who had shot down Arthur.

 

“Dad, what-?”

 

“I told you before, Alvarr” responded the man, smoking launcher lowered in the peace of the moment. “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve”

 

Arthur was, understandably, annoyed at the situation. He should have been better prepared but, well, hindsight and all that. With a groan, the blond pushed his body up, until he was kneeling, and gazed back at the stunned, gawking pair of villains. His chest was unmarred by the blast, if slightly smoking.

 

“Ow” Arthur uttered, to which rocket-launcher-man visibly shook himself and started to reload a missile. Alvarr growled, standing up to sidetrack the blond, to no avail.

 

With quick steps, Arthur pushed Alvarr away, making him crash hard against the pipelines nearby. Without pause, he grabbed the launcher’s muzzle and pointed it up, ready to kick its wielder back when a rifle started firing at him from behind. Right, Alvarr had reached his discarded weapon.

 

Fed up with the situation, Arthur grappled the launcher off the other man, whose struggles were pitiful against the might of a sea-blooded being, and bent it out of shape. A hard punch to the sternum sent the man flying, and what was left of his launcher was thrown towards Alvarr, who dodged at the last second.

 

Arthur took his chance to grab a steel pipe close to him, ripping it off its place and throwing it straight and true to the man Alvarr called his father. The agonized scream from the man, at having the improvised javelin tear through his shoulder and effectively hold him to the wall, was echoed by Alvarr’s enraged howl.

 

“ _That_ is your son?” said Arthur, sarcasm and derision on his every word. “You should be ashamed” His anger at the whole situation was bringing out Arthur’s darker tendencies and somber memories.

 

A crack from the back had Arthur hit the deck as an untargeted missile flew to the wall nearest him. The following explosion breached the hull and water started pouring in. It seemed Alvarr had, in spite of it being bent out of shape, fired the launcher.

 

The pressure started opening the hull more and more, and the water was dragging everything out of place. A nearby steel rack broke off and fell sideways, trapping the legs of Alvarr’s father underneath. He cried out in pain.

 

“Dad!” Alvarr yelled.

 

Arthur ignored them, studying the break and the water level, quickly calculating how to get to the few officers left inside the submarine who were probably waiting for him.

 

“Ruadan! Stay with me! You don’t get to go like this!” Alvarr’s desperate rants in the background barely distracted the blond.

 

Making a decision, Arthur leapt to a nearby ladder. He was about to disappear to the upper level when-

 

“Wait!” a shout stopped him. Arthur turned to look at the pair, the water rising rapidly on them. Alvarr looked furious, reluctant but eager. “Help me save him!”

 

Arthur paused, and glared back.

 

“Please! You have to help him!”

 

“Do I?” answered Arthur, his voice echoing chillingly in the sinking room. “He has probably killed innocents, too many to count.”

 

Alvarr trembled helplessly, grinding his teeth. “Have mercy!”

 

“Did you have any for those people?” Arthur asked sardonically. “Ask the sea for mercy. You will get none from me.” With those angry words, Arthur turned back to the ladder and headed up.

 

His heartbeat was fast, and his temples were throbbing in time with Alvarr’s enraged scream as he left them to their fates. Arthur closed his eyes, breathed deep, and hastened to the hatch. He was not going to regret anything right now.

 

The leftover crew was relieved to see him. Only one of them had been hurt in the previous shootout, and they had been trying to get him up the ladder. Arthur waved them off, carried the man on his shoulder and stepped up to the roof. The others had been busy, getting the emergency floats ready and climbing them in preparation. The few that had been left inside were quickly organized to their own groups.

 

Asking them to release ropes on each float, Arthur took hold of them and swam off, pulling all the floats as far as possible in case the vessel decided to explode. He was feeling very tired all of a sudden.

 

Perhaps he would visit his father after all. He was yearning his home shores, right now.

 

The crew was thrilled at their survival, doing headcounts, talking to each other, and yelling their relief to the skies and their thanks to their hero.

 

Their mumbles calmed something in Arthur, reminding him why he did what he did. Saving the innocent was his job; protecting those who could not protect themselves.

 

But, it still felt like his heart was twisting inside and the weight of the world was once again on his shoulders.

 

Why did Arthur suddenly feel so empty? As if the ocean itself was disappointed in him?

 

^~^~^~^

 

**Kingdom of Xebel - Castle’s Royal Wing**

 

“It’s started!” announced the Second Princess of Xebel, Morgana, once the double doors to the private chambers of her elder sister opened with a bang.

 

Morgause, First Born to the throne of Xebel, groaned from her place at the desk. “Shouldn’t we wait until Merlin deems to grace us with his presence? For that matter, why is it we always meet in my rooms?”

 

Morgana waved her hand carelessly, taking a seat across her. “Merlin will be rather busy in the coming days. And, it’s tradition! It wouldn’t feel right to meet anywhere else!” Her beaming smile caused nary a blink from Morgause, who set aside the pile of documents she had been poring over and focused on her sister.

 

“So, your vision, it’s finally coming true?”

 

Morgana sighed and stared into space. “Yes. Mordred is making his move. It will be up to Merlin and… _him_ , now.”

 

Morgause smirked. “You can _name_ him, you know? It’s not like I didn’t suspect from the beginning.”

 

The sable haired beauty flashed her a smile but did not acknowledge the admonition.

 

“What we can do, however, is prepare Xebel for the upcoming conflict.”

 

“You think father will allow us to go to war against Atlantis?”

 

“... I _know_ he will go to war _for_ Atlantis”

 

“ _Morgana_ , you-! Are you telling me Balinor will side _with_ Mordred?!”

 

“Extenuating circumstances, sweetie.”

 

“If Hunith doesn’t skin the man, **I will**!”

 

“ _Morgause_ ” Morgana’s grave tone cut through the blonde’s rising fury. “Certain events must come to pass for the best outcome to occur. It is not father’s fault. Xebel might be influential but Atlantis is no less powerful. Mordred’s reach is great.”

 

Silence reigned in the room.

 

“Fine… what’s in it for me?”

 

A wicked smirk accompanied the response, “By the end of it all, Merlin’s new beau will be a joy to tease.”

 

The sing-song words caused a snort from the elder of the two. “Very well. All for our adorable little brother”.

 

The two thirds of a powerful triad continued scheming into the night, while its last member traversed the halls of a castle, thousands of leagues away, within the borders of the Kingdom of Atlantis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, on Chapter 3:
> 
> Prelude To War: Atlantis’ King makes the protector of the oceans and the surface his enemy by threatening war.


	3. Prelude to War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlantis’ King makes the protector of the oceans and the surface his enemy by threatening war.

~*~*~*~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Private Audience Room**

 

The throne room had never felt so cold.

 

Servants were scurrying about, performing the daily clean up. A few scribes were updating the room’s records with council stipulations and all the new laws passed recently, in case of an audience.

 

Pointless, really. It had been a long time since this room had been used. The cozy chambers exuded an almost private atmosphere for the people who came to appeal their cases to the crown. Queen Ygraine had liked to be close at hand, approachable even, for those she served and ruled over.

 

Merlin remembered those times fondly, and sighed with regret. King Mordred, much like his late father, preferred the use of the great auditorium which held just the one throne. It made the people look up to him, the King who stood above all.

 

Unbecoming arrogance would be his downfall, Merlin thought morosely.

 

He swam idly towards the thrones, one inlaid in gold and the other one in pearls, watching the numerous people move around. He looked intently at the young maid that approached the smaller of the two royal seats and started polishing it. She performed her job swiftly and meticulously. It must be routine by now.

 

Her dark skin contrasted with the ivory of the seat’s frame, calling to attention the strength of her hands. When she made a turn to retrieve more cleaning tools, Merlin made note of the beautiful features of her face, including the delicate freckles framed by dark brown curls.

 

Experienced and professional, the maid fulfilled her duties without acknowledging Merlin’s study of her person.

 

How curious. Merlin was sure this lady was familiar. She was obviously a servant of the castle, which meant that he could have met her at any random hallway, room or even a public gathering. But something told him it had to do with his sister. Had she not described such a person before?

 

The heavy double doors at the entrance opened and the figure of the esteemed royal advisor Gaius appeared. The elegant charcoal glaive on his hands, a symbol that had become synonymous with the man himself, stroke against the tiled floor sharply and caused a clang to reverberate all the way to the high glass ceiling.

 

All movement ceased in the room as everyone turned towards the doors. Gaius nodded to himself.

 

“Leave us” he commanded, waving an arm impassively to encompass the whole room.

 

Silence reigned for a moment, before everyone bowed slightly and exited in an orderly manner.

 

Merlin did not move. He eyed the retreating maid, and made a mental note to ask Morgana about the lady friend she had among the castle workers in Atlantis.

 

When she left, Merlin merely turned back to gaze at the second throne and waited for Gaius to start with his usual nonsense regarding Ygraine’s first born. That had become its own routine.

 

“To meet in the middle of the day, at the heart of Atlantis, Gaius?” His question echoed in the otherwise empty room.

 

When the elder reached Merlin’s side, his deep sigh made him look towards his friend. To Merlin, Gaius seemed older, burdened with a heavy weight on his shoulders, and tired.

 

Merlin bit his lower lip, suddenly anxious. “Would you like to sit, Gaius?”

 

The man chuckled weakly, before shaking his head in response. “I’m afraid Merlin that we don’t even have time for that.”

 

How ominous, Merlin thought, frowning.

 

“And am I allowed to know why?”

 

Gaius sighed again. “Mordred is making his move, today.”

 

Merlin’s quiet gasp had Gaius nodding in resignation.

 

“He has decided that, as the last council session voted in favor of certain laws and your engagement anniversary is coming up, now is the perfect time to appeal to Xebel to form the alliance.”

 

Merlin swallowed thickly, crossing his arms and hugging himself tightly. “We knew it would come… so why do I feel so unprepared?”

 

“I’m afraid that the reason is our lack of an heir to take the throne. We may have waited too long. The boy is determined to punish those who he believes took his mother away.”

 

Merlin huffed, “The surface had nothing to do with Queen Ygraine’s passing. Morgause would kill Mordred if she ever heard that.”

 

Gaius walked to the pearl throne and touched an armrest reverently. “Queen Ygraine’s influence was felt much more than King Lot’s, and the loyalty she inspired was much more dangerous to him. His excuse for the execution, however, was well played and his son follows in his footsteps blindly.”

 

All this Merlin knew perfectly. So did his sisters. But, what could they do? Xebel’s King refused to act without proper evidence and due course, citing a need to leave Atlantis’ internal affairs to itself.

 

Merlin knew it was more than that. After all, King Lot had rarely let him leave Atlantis’ territories since the betrothal contract with Mordred was signed.

 

Merlin always felt more like a bargaining chip than a valued ally.

 

“Regardless, are we so certain that the other one would not be worse? He has not even set foot in Atlantis, why should we leave our fates to him and his brutish ways?”

 

Merlin felt justified in his doubt of the Queen’s first born. He had not made a favorable impression during their first meeting at the outpost that held the Motherbox. Aside from having aided in the defeat of Steppenwolf, the man himself acted arrogantly, bad-tempered and antagonistic. Merlin found him beyond irritating.

 

Gaius smiled, mysteriously, before patting the young prince’s back in commiseration. “Arthur inherited all of his mother’s best qualities, despite what you may think. Also-”

 

Pausing purposely, Gaius reached into an inner pocket of his long vest and took out a communicator. He handed it to Merlin.

 

“-we have no choice.”

 

Merlin took the device, absently noting it had more features than just as a communication enabler, and put it away inside the pouch hanging from his armored waist for easy reach.

 

Gaius placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and squeezed firmly. “This will lead you to him. It contains the usual programming but for the added mapping and coordinates’ reading systems. And remember, Arthur will fight you on this; he will refuse to acknowledge you. You must prevail.”

 

Merlin nodded, mentally preparing for that fight.

 

Even though this would be a very dangerous undertaking, and there were no guarantees of success or survival with the current state of atlantean politics, he felt strangely excited. Within him, his magic thrummed in anticipation. His eyes washed gold in response.

 

It seemed that approaching events would mark a turning point in his life.

 

He couldn’t wait.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Amnesty Bay - Seashore Town**

 

Arthur was having a great day. His father was in good health, gray-templed but strong and definitely still able to drink his son under the table. He was determined to find the secret to Uther’s ability.

 

Drinking games aside, Arthur was feeling settled and comfortable. He traveled a long distance, nonstop, to reach his home waters and meet his remaining family. His restlessness calmed with a few simple words of encouragement from his father. Uther never judged, and he also never missed an opportunity to hint to his son about using his abilities for the greater good.

 

Wasn’t he already doing that?

 

Uther was also ever mindful of Atlantis. Arthur hated disappointing his father, but he remained firm on never visiting the place nor meeting any other atlantean. He had enough with his regular surface-and-shore adventures, pirated submarines notwithstanding.

 

They were having a very pleasant, if drunk, conversation on the way to the truck when a splashing sound from the docks behind him made Arthur turn around. He promptly lost all breath.

 

A vision garbed in atlantean green armor that hugged all the right places, with a long neck framed by a crimson high collar, walked out of the water. Soaked black tresses curled softly around a pair of adorably large ears, reaching past high cheekbones and an elegant jawline. Shiny droplets traveled down the fey features of the man, reaching the hollow of his throat and disappearing underneath the modest neckline.

 

Arthur’s throat went dry and he had a sudden, inexplicable, impulse to follow that path with his tongue.

 

The golden crown glinting at the man’s brow brought Arthur back to reality. This was not only someone from Atlantis but the very same little fish he had saved during the Steppenwolf ordeal. So much for not meeting any more sea-born people.

 

Before the figure could even open his pretty little mouth to speak, Arthur was already turning back to his father, saying over his shoulder, “I’m not interested”.

 

The man’s disapproving silence was so loud Arthur’s lips twitched in an aborted smile. He helped Uther settle in his seat, before prowling towards their foreign visitor.

 

The man seemed to hesitate before straightening, clenched fists at his sides. “You are a hard man to find,” he said, soft tenor slightly different to his underwater voice.

 

Arthur eyed him and chose not to comment.

 

“I need you to come to Atlantis.” The man’s earnest blue eyes entreated.

 

Arthur huffed, glaring at the sky in silent protest before crossing his arms.

 

“I just said I’m not interested.”

 

“There is a war coming-!”

 

“Listen, I will tell you the same thing I’ve told Gaius the handful of times he dared to show his face…” The man’s attractive features showed outrage at Arthur’s words. “... except maybe nicer because you are-” Arthur’s mind supplied the words _‘sexy, enticing’_ and ‘ _would you like to go home with me?’_. His hands suddenly itched to do something. He coughed to avoid that train of thought, “-anyways: no, thank you.”

 

Arthur turned around to walk to the car when a hand shot out to grab his wrist.

 

“The surface world is in danger!”

 

Despite the gravity of the words, Arthur’s actual reason for halting was the electric shock traveling up and down his spine which originated from the touch of the little fish. Said man shivered in response and dropped Arthur’s wrist as if scalded.

 

Choosing to ignore whatever just happened, Arthur asked seriously, “Danger?”

 

The atlantean gathered himself. “Your half-brother, King Mordred, is amassing the armies of the kingdoms of the sea in order to declare war on humans and destroy the surface”.

 

Arthur gritted his teeth. “What have we ever done to you?”

 

Deep blue eyes sharpened and grew stormy, and the man bit his lip in an obvious attempt to withhold a scathing retort. He straightened his shoulders again. “It matters not, the reasons Mordred uses to incite his war. What really matters is that billions of people, yours and mine, will die pointlessly if he is allowed to continue.”

 

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Arthur thought for a moment, decided this was not his problem, and promptly ignored the warrior in front of him.

 

“Whatever this is, it has nothing to do with me.”

 

The man choked on his sudden fury. “H-How can you say that?!”

 

“The reason why you came to me is because Gaius told you to, right? He’s always wanted to bring me to Atlantis in a sorry attempt to assuage his misplaced guilt over my mother’s abandonment and later death.” Arthur only got widened eyes and a sharp intake of breath as a response. “So no, I will not go, and I doubt I would be welcome there even if I did.”

 

“You saved Atlantis and the world when you stopped Steppenwolf!”

 

“I didn't do it for Atlantis!”

 

“Then do this for your humans!”

 

Arthur threw his arms up in the air, then dragged a hand down his face in exasperation. What he would not give to gag those plump pink lips with-!

 

He strangled that thought before he did something he would ~~_not_~~ regret. “How do you propose your King is stopped, uh?!”

 

There was a pause, before the atlantean cleared his throat. “You are the first born of Queen Ygraine. The throne is yours by birthright. Claim it and you can put a stop to this war before it begins.”

 

Arthur would have laughed if he wasn’t feeling so drained. “I am the _bastard_ son of Queen Ygraine. Atlantis would never accept me, as I am, when it didn’t accept her for what she did. Mordred will not just give up the throne to me.” He stared straight into the lovely deep blues of the atlantean. “I am no King.”

 

The man frowned severely, “I agree-”

 

Arthur felt slightly hurt at that.

 

“-but Gaius seems to believe in you for some reason. And he has the means to allow you to prove yourself in a way the people of Atlantis will not deny. If you do this, they will listen and accept you in the throne”.

 

Arthur stepped closer to the man, until they were both breathing each other’s air. “My childish need to prove myself, to Gaius and to you, died when my mother did.” Another visible shiver swept over the atlantean at Arthur’s growl. “But know this, Mordred can try to bring his war to the surface. I will have no mercy for him then.”

 

They stared at each other, somewhat spellbound, before the man looked away first and Arthur turned around.

 

After those final words, Arthur headed back to the truck, turned the engine on and drove off, leaving behind the stunned figure of a man too beautiful for his own good.

 

On the way back to the pier and the lighthouse that they called home, Arthur mourned his previous good mood gone to hell. His tumultuous thoughts raced over each other and made it difficult for his attention to stay on the road. Worse than that, he ignored the churning in his gut and the rising pressure in the air.

 

The sudden cry of the innumerable seagulls flying to the mainland in a hurry momentarily distracted him before he noticed the huge oncoming wave barreling from the sea. The fishing boats and luxury yachts on its way capsized, getting smashed against the rocky shallows and drowned by tons of water.

 

The tidal wave got closer, inescapable on the beat up old truck driving as fast as it could on the edges of the cliff road. Arthur was not going to just give in, but the water reached them before long.

 

The truck turned violently, swept in the fury of the sea, cracked windows filling the cab with water and debris. Arthur was launched from his seat, bouncing around from the current and impacting against rocks, trees and telephone posts.

 

Digging his hands on the ground, he shook his head to get his bearings back. His heart thundered, and only one thought repeated in his mind.

 

 _“DAD_!”

 

He propelled into the darkened waters, filled with dirt. He managed to find the crumpled truck snagged between rocks, near the cliff edge but the current was too strong to reach it safely. The motionless form of Uther was still inside.

 

Suddenly, a golden haze mixed with icy blue surrounded the truck and a huge air pocket formed, easily encompassing the top of the cliff all the way to the edge of the road. The glowing bubble was pushing away the remains of the wave, holding it back until it receded to the edge of the sea. Arthur entered the bubble, dropping heavily to the ground and watching in shocked wonder as the atlantean from before walked in, arms raised in a hold back gesture, golden eyes burning bright.

 

Had he not had more urgent things on his mind, he would have remained there, mesmerized by the view.

 

Breaking out of his stupor, Arthur ran to the truck and broke the door off its hinges, throwing it carelessly away. He tore off the seat belt holding the seemingly lifeless body of his father, and took Uther out quickly but carefully.

 

“Nonononono, you can’t do this to me old man! Breathe!” Arthur chanted, worried out of his mind, pumping the unresponsive chest under his hands in a panicked attempt at resuscitation.

 

“Move!” a sharp voice said, before a green armored body threw himself over Uther and glowing hands roved over the man’s chest and face. Arthur did not question his sudden trust on the stranger.

 

Astonishingly, Uther responded, turning his head aside to vomit water and coughing until his lungs cleared. Arthur hugged his old man, making him sit up and watching anxiously until all the water left his system.

 

The young hero’s panting breaths were echoed by the slumped figure of the atlantean. His eyes had returned to the lovely blue from before, and his cheeks were reddened with exertion. Arthur could not help the wide-eyed wondering look he was throwing the man.

 

Having Uther’s shaking, breathing, _living_ form in his arms caused Arthur’s eyes to water slightly. He swallowed before trying to speak.

 

“I-I don’t even know your name.”

 

The other man’s eyes widened before they softened with something like understanding. He smiled, and Arthur felt dazed.

 

“I am Prince Myrddin Emrys of Xebel,” the atlantean announced, posture straightening and eyes lighting up with pride.

 

Arthur blinked. Did his heart just skipped a beat?

 

“But you may call me Merlin,” he continued, nodding imperiously but with the quirk of a smile softening his features.

 

Arthur mentally shook himself, tightening his hold on his father’s still shaking form and helping him stand up.

 

“I’m Arthur,” he responded. Then, he looked back at the atlantean and earnestly said “Thank you, Merlin.”

 

Merlin looked surprised for a second, a quiet huff escaping his lips. Before Arthur could question him, Merlin bowed in acceptance, stood up and turned towards the scene beyond the road ledge.

 

Arthur stared silently at the other’s profile for a moment before his attention was caught by Uther’s gasp. Looking towards the town at the edge of the coast, he could distinguish the debris brought in by the tsunami. And the ruin that followed.

 

“My god,” muttered Uther under his breath, seemingly sober now. Arthur could relate.

 

The town laid in flames, with houses and buildings half wrecked. The emergency siren echoed, late in the wake of the destruction.

 

More notable were the remains of the boats and sea vessels, among the piles of garbage and detritus settled everywhere.

 

Merlin sighed deeply.

 

“This was Mordred’s doing,” he said softly. Sad or disappointed, Arthur could not say. “And it is only the beginning.”

 

Arthur resisted the urge to comfort him. Instead, he steadied his father and started walking away.

 

“In that case, my brother just made himself an enemy,” Arthur responded, a severe frown on his face.

 

He would make sure Uther was safe first, then he would go to the town and help where he could throughout the night.

 

Tomorrow, he had some family issues to resolve. Of the brotherly kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, on Chapter 4:
> 
> Road To Tintagel City: Arthur finally heads to the capital of the other side of his heritage.


	4. Road To Tintagel City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finally heads to the capital of the other side of his heritage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention, this has officially become a series. The first side story is up, called Meant To Be, which is set before the start of this story and ends in this chapter. It has three chapters which will be completed before the next update of WOL,POS in a week.
> 
> Enjoy!

~*~*~*~

 

**Amnesty Bay - Pendragon Lighthouse**

 

Merlin stood at the end of the pier, feeling the wind blow through his hair. This was a tranquil space, a border between land and sea.

 

He could sense the turn of the earth and the pull from the ocean. In the dim light of the early morning, he could see the outline of the fading moon and the rising sun.

 

A yearning to see his family swept over him.

 

It had been a while since he had managed to visit Xebel. Mordred’s changing moods and increasing paranoia had forced him to stay in the capital or risk retaliation against his people. Moreover, with the King constantly distracted by his thoughts of revenge, the people of Atlantis needed guidance and reassurance from someone. With the upcoming nuptials, that someone meant Merlin.

 

After all, they too would be his people, soon.

 

Merlin heaved a deep sigh. That thought had never caused such a depressive mood before. Also, for some reason, this time an image of Arthur flashed in his mind when he pictured his impending wedding.

 

Hearing faint clattering sounds from behind, he looked over his shoulder to see the human, Uther, move around his dwelling through the open windows and the ajar door. Frowning slightly, Merlin hesitated before heading back to the house.

 

Keeping himself from crossing the threshold, Merlin waited until Uther walked by to clear his throat loudly and call his attention.

 

Uther paused and looked at him, surprised but unwary. “Yes, can I help you?” His voice was pleasant and polite, already quite different from his son.

 

Merlin pursed his lips, responding with “How are you feeling?”

 

Uther chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m hardier than I appear, and I have lived by the sea all my life. A little water never hurt anyone.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow, rethinking the previous comparison with the man’s son. Understated arrogance was still arrogance, but he could discern no negative connotations. He was very sensitive to those dark emotions after living so long with Mordred.

 

“Why are you standing out there? Come in!” Uther invited him in, earnestly. Merlin smiled politely and accepted. The man bid him to take a seat while he retired to the kitchen to make tea.

 

All the strange rituals and human objects distracted Merlin. He was reminded of Ygraine and her curious knowledge of the surface. As a child, he had enjoyed her stories, and the glint in her eyes when she was telling them made him happy. The Queen rarely smiled outside of her interactions with him and her youngest child.

 

Even Morgause was hard-pressed to get more than solemn warmth and a look of pride while training under her.

 

In hindsight, after the family she had kept secret came to light, it was obvious that Ygraine’s knowledge came from experience. She had lived as a human for three years, before returning home to a cold marriage and a thankless job.

 

“Here you go,” said Uther, handing Merlin a cup with a steaming liquid. Without hesitation, he took a drink and promptly spit it out, scalded tongue aching. The human scrambled to offer a cloth for cleanup, apologizing sincerely. “I had forgotten how atlanteans are with hot drinks. You are supposed to blow on it before sipping, until it’s cool enough to drink.”

 

He sounded vaguely amused but truly apologetic. Merlin waved his hand to indicate no hard feelings. His mouth stopped smarting quickly when his healing factor kicked in.

 

“It was my fault. I should have remembered,” Merlin said. Uther looked bemused but he let it go.

 

“Where are my manners? My name is Uther Pendragon. It is very nice to meet you.”

 

Merlin smiled more genuinely. “I know, we did talk briefly last night. I am Merlin, Prince of Xebel. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

Uther nodded and removed himself to the kitchen again.

 

Merlin eyed the man who had been Ygraine’s lover. He who was the father of Atlantis’ first born heir.

 

Merlin could see in the size of his shoulders and the shape of his jaw, the reason why the Queen fell for this surface dweller. He was classically good-looking, and even the gray on his temples indicating his age gave him a dashing profile.

 

The oceanic people were very long lived, reaching a peak at majority and aging slowly through the decades. Unfortunately, children born to each generation were rare. Oftentimes, royal families had only one heir. Atlantis’ and Xebel’s current situation was unheard of in their history records, with two and three possible heirs respectively and their previous rulers lost at such young ages.

 

That only made him think of Arthur, the brute. At first, their meeting the previous night had confirmed everything that Merlin thought of him. He swore that, at some point of the night, he wanted to strangle the man for being contrary and obtuse. However, when the attack came from the sea, Merlin found himself tracking the pair until he located the overturned vehicle with Uther still inside.

 

He then called all his magic to help the tide ebb.

 

Arthur had been inconsolable and later appropriately thankful. He had shown a humble and sincere side to himself that Merlin could find no fault in. That had been a glimpse of Ygraine’s son, the Motherbox war hero, and the prince found himself curious to see more.

 

Strangely enough, he could not stop recalling the width of Arthur’s shoulders or the gentleness displayed by his huge arms when handling his father. His blond hair had turned a darker gold with the weight of the water, which brought into sharp relief his strong jawline.

 

Arthur’s aristocratic features could be called attractive, if one was into that Merlin supposed.

 

The clanking of dishes brought Merlin out of his circling thoughts. He stood up and walked outside, heading back to the pier with the intention of sitting at the end to feel the current with his feet. Halfway through, movement from the deep alerted him of someone approaching.

 

Time seemed to slow.

 

Arthur rose from the sea, like a god from primal ages, and landed on the wooden platform with water running down his everything. His blond locks shined polished gold in the light of the sun and his soaked shirt left nothing to the imagination.

 

Merlin could not help his gaze traveling down Arthur’s heaving chest. The jeans clung to his thick thighs deliciously and-

 

Merlin’s face blanked while he panicked internally.

 

What in Poseidon’s name was it with the poetic rant running through his mind? The man was barely worth an arts lesson and he definitely did not provide aesthetic pleasure…!

 

-Arthur removed his shirt, revealing rippling pectorals, washboard abs and a dark happy trail leading down, down, down.

 

Merlin’s mouth watered for some inexplicable reason.

 

Arthur squeezed the excess water off the garment, and draped it over a shoulder. He wiped a hand down his chest absentmindedly and ~~prowled~~ walked towards Merlin.

 

The prince’s mind grew silent. He stared at the vision in front of him, vaguely noticing his own panting breath. All he could feel was an overwhelming urge to mark that naked flesh with his _teeth..._

 

“Hello, _Mer_ lin” said Arthur, walking past the frozen atlantean towards his house. “I think I’m done now. The town will be fine. Just let me get my weapon and say bye to the old man. We’ll get going then.”

 

The door closed behind Merlin, quiet against the loud beating of his heart. His ears were ringing and his hands felt clammy. Never in his life had he felt or thought anything like that, towards anyone.

 

Arthur did not seem to notice anything wrong, and that left Merlin strangely bereft. He swallowed - his throat now very dry surprisingly - and gathered himself. They had a long way back to Atlantis, and a mission to fulfill, but he could not help but wonder...

 

...What the hell was that?!

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Amnesty Bay - Facing the North Atlantic Ocean**

 

Jumping from the precipice with Merlin by his side had been strangely exhilarating.

 

Feeling the wind blowing hard in his face and seeing the rapidly approaching waters below reminded Arthur of his childhood. Gaius was a hard taskmaster but even he allowed the occasional break from training. Leon and Arthur used to play around in the same cliff, daring each other to perform bolder acrobatics every time.

 

The shock of entering the cold sea brought him out of his memories. With measured movements, Arthur used his momentum to swim in a rising arc, twirling and having fun. It never got old.

 

Merlin followed him closely, more sedately. While Arthur moved with confident and powerful strokes, Merlin swam gracefully and efficiently.

 

His svelte form drew Arthur’s eye unerringly. His heart gave a funny jump at seeing Merlin’s serene face radiating happiness at being back in his element.

 

They traveled for a while, in silence, before the prince made a sudden dip. Arthur watched him take a device from a small pouch around his hips, before a bright light activated from somewhere across them. A vehicle, an _underwater_ _car_ , had been hidden at the sea bottom.

 

“This is my ship.”

 

“...you have got to be kidding me.”

 

“Come on, we are running late as it is.”

 

“I think I prefer swimming. Why can’t we swim all the way there?”

 

“It would take too long. Why are you so resistant to the idea?”

 

“You hid it, well, there! I mean the smell alone…”

 

“You are _such_ a child. Do you see me complaining about you?”

 

“What do you mea-?” Arthur gagged, having sniffed himself, and considered for the first time that he should have cleaned up more before this adventure. He _had_ spent the night rescuing people and waddling through garbage. There was only so much a swim in the sea could wash away. He sighed, “-nevermind. Let’s get this over with.”

 

Merlin huffed, but Arthur spied a small quirk at the corner of his mouth. Feeling a little self-conscious, he followed the atlantean to the ship.

 

Before long, they were on their way.

 

Arthur did not exaggerate when he said that he had traveled around the globe, going to every corner and seeing all inhabited places. Once he reached his majority, he had exercised his freedom and set out into the world. His intelligence and natural ability allowed him to learn most languages on the planet, especially after meeting all sorts of people. All this, however, was accomplished only in the surface.

 

The ocean and its populace were a mystery to him. He had been afraid to meet any seafolk, regardless of Gaius’ assurances of his safety. As such, he used the current and the tide to reach his destinations, while avoiding the deeper sea levels. Aside from half-remembered lessons on the number of kingdoms and the descriptions of the intelligent species, Arthur did not really know much about the other half of his heritage.

 

It could prove to be a complication. As short a time as Merlin had spent on the surface, it had been made obvious very early how unaccustomed the prince was to the “human rituals” that to Arthur were routine and _normal._

 

How, then, would Arthur fair amidst the whole other society and culture that had rejected the idea of him before even meeting him?

 

The surface world was chaotic, and they were not very tolerable of those they found different to the norm. Yet, Atlantis and its ilk seemed much more prejudiced, and that was saying something.

 

Deep in thought, Arthur’s attention was caught by the gentle touch of a hand on his arm. He stared at the elegant fingers, uncomprehending, before looking up into sympathetic blue orbs.

 

Merlin, rather than voicing meaningless words of comfort at his unspoken worries, squeezed his arm mildly and then pointed to the wind - water? - shield and the sights beyond.

 

Colossal statues framed the giant entrance to a tunnel which was at the end of a massive bridge filled with - strangely enough - bumper to bumper ships, coming and going. It was an absurd sort of image: an underwater bridge together with underwater traffic, that included highly technological vehicles and maritime creatures used as pack mules or transport.

 

Arthur held his tongue, afraid to offend, as he had painfully learnt throughout his travels to other countries.

 

“This is the gateway bridge, a remnant of the old world. It serves as the only access to the city of Atlantis, outside of the canyon walls which are highly protected.”

 

“Why the only entrance?”

 

“It makes it more defensible by forcing tight regulations on ingress to the capital. Border control is very serious. It is a sort of military strategy. It did not use to be like this, there was higher trust between the cities and their populace,” Merlin sighed, a frown on his lovely face. “I am afraid even your mother found it impossible to undo your great-grandfather’s forceful dividing of the boundaries between the oceanic people. He closed the frontiers and lessened the importance placed on good relationships.”

 

“Sound strategy, isolating yourself,” said Arthur sarcastically.

 

Merlin blinked at him, expression resigned. “It was not just Atlantis, though. All other kingdoms followed its lead and closed themselves off except in the most basic of levels or the higher ceremonial circumstances.”

 

“That’s right,” Arthur snapped his fingers, glancing at his companion. “All this time you have talked of Atlantis, but you introduced yourself as a prince of... Xebel?” The last was said questioningly.

 

“Yes, I am the third heir of the Kingdom of Xebel. As to my intimate knowledge and interest in Atlantis itself, well-” Merlin answered, seeming reluctant to continue, until a contained explosion drew their attention away to a portion of the walls above the entry tunnel. Several small watercrafts and a group of armored personnel converged on the area, appearing to capture a small figure, restraining and taking them away.

 

Arthur watched it all, vaguely uncomfortable. It was a girl, long haired, thin and ragged, and they were treating her as if she was a terrorist carrying a bomb. He did not think she would be truly that dangerous, and yet a half dozen unit was escorting her.

 

“Plasma and hydro cannons, as well as numerous sentries, guard the capital from unauthorized approach, departure or related activities.”

 

Arthur blinked at Merlin’s sort of explanation. So the girl had been trying to cross the tunnel into the city illegally. Were they not planning to do the same?

 

“How are we going to enter unnoticed?”

 

“I have diplomatic immunity. My ship should be recognized and allowed passage without question.”

 

Silence befell them when passing through the scanners at the end of the bridge. Nothing happened, and Merlin continued driving across the smaller-than-it-appeared tunnel.

 

Arthur’s attention was taken by his first view of Atlantis in all its glory. Futuristic, tireless and intensely colorful, the city was breathtakingly beautiful.

 

“Welcome to Atlantis, and its capital known as Tintagel City,” announced Merlin, a fond undertone in his voice. Arthur resisted the urge to grab his hand in a silent request for comfort.

 

Instead, he let wonder fill his mind and his heart. Here was everything Arthur had denied himself for a very long time.

 

But sadly, the voice at the back of his head reminded him, bitterly, as to the reasons why Arthur had done so. He pushed the gut-wrenching memory of his mother back.

 

His mood a little soured, Arthur still gazed at everything, curiously. Merlin opted to remain silent and let him be.

 

“Why Tintagel?” The blond asked, once Merlin’s words registered and he felt mentally balanced enough for conversation.

 

The prince side-eyed him and shrugged. “I think it was your great-grandfather who, after traveling the human world at the time, centuries ago, liked the name from a supposedly legendary castle where a powerful warrior king was conceived? I am not very familiar with the story. Anyways, he renamed the capital on a whim.”

 

Arthur’s eye twitched reflexively, absolutely distracted from his dark thoughts now and grumbling to himself.

 

Of course his mother’s side of the family would somewhat relate to the Arthurian legends. It was not as if he was named after _that_ king himself.

 

Merlin drove into the heart of the largest buildings, heading downwards until the futuristic looks were replaced by stone edifices. These more artistic structures were old and decayed but no less attractive.

 

Arthur decided to put the previous topic off his mind, and leaned forward in his seat to better distinguish the intriguing sights. “Where is this?”

 

“The old city. Few venture down here anymore, and of those who do, none are of noble ascent or military positions. We should be safe.”

 

Merlin directed their vessel down and Arthur studied their surroundings more carefully. He vaguely thought that Merlin had just jinxed the whole operation with those words.

 

Parking on a nearby outcrop, Merlin shut off all the systems in the ship and opened the doors.

 

Arthur, apprehensive, swam out. It seemed that it was time to face the music or, in this case, the stubborn old starfish known as Gaius.

 

Merlin took the lead, heading to a dilapidated sunken ship. It had a big enough hole on the side to serve as entrance. Arthur eyed the whole thing with uncertainty but seeing Merlin enter without hesitation, he shrugged and followed. His old teacher must be somewhere inside.

 

Hopefully, he would be able to curve any impulse to punch the man. Or hug him, which would just be embarrassing. But, Arthur had promised himself to at least hear them out. His decision to involve himself in these oceanic affairs was solely for the benefit of his vulnerable surface world. Whatever Arthur deemed necessary to do, he would, whether Gaius - or the delightful Merlin - approved of it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, is it just me or, no matter how much you revise beforehand, do you always find things to change/fix right before posting? ANYways...
> 
> Up Next, Chapter 5: Memorable Encounters 
> 
> Recounted folk tales and unpleasant meetings, from an old teacher to a childhood mate.


	5. Memorable Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recounted folk tales and unpleasant meetings, from an old teacher to a childhood mate.

~~~*~~~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Old City, Sunken Ship**

 

A natural air pocket drove their center of gravity down to the waterlogged boards at the base of the ship. Regaining his balance from the abrupt change of going from floating in the sea to walking and breathing dry air, Arthur dragged a hand through his hair to get rid of the excess water.

 

“Why would you use a place with air on the seafloor?” he asked Merlin, as said prince walked up an elevated plank to a second floor.

 

“We use this place as a safe house. Air provides protection from all oceanic people except highborns, who are the only ones that can breath in it without the assistance of special equipment.”

 

Merlin’s measured ascending steps caused his hips (and another… posterior part of him) to sway lightly, and Arthur quickly turned away before he could be tempted to get more of an eyeful. He was starting to think the prince’s hydrodynamic tight bodysuit was going to cause him serious problems. Perhaps unending humiliation.

 

“And as I mentioned before, no nobles would be caught visiting the old city.”

 

“You are a noble, aren’t you?”

 

“True, but I am different from those sorts. I do not mind exploring our past or admiring its beauty, however decayed it appears.”

 

“Of course, my mistake, you are a  _noble_ noble.”

 

Merlin huffed, denying Arthur a more passionate response. The blond squashed his disappointment. He liked irritating Merlin for some reason.

 

“Regardless, no one will come here unless there are extenuating circumstances.”

 

“Such as the ones we find ourselves in,” the grave deep voice of his old teacher responded to Merlin’s comment.

 

Gaius was sitting on a few crates stacked at the end of the deck they had climbed to. His countenance was old but sprightly.

 

‘So really, no change. It’s like he’s going to be forever ancient,’ Arthur mused, smirking while he dug the end of his quindent where he stood, to keep it in place.

 

“Gaius, you old coot, here I am in the flesh, as you have so painstakingly tried for so long.” He walked until he was two steps from the man who stood up to meet him, vaguely noticing how Merlin stayed slightly behind.

 

Gaius nodded, smiling warmly. “So you are, Arthur.”

 

“I suppose the trick was sending someone a little more easy on the eyes,” joked Arthur, ignoring Merlin’s indignant squawk and placing a hand on Gaius’ shoulder, squeezing.

 

The advisor sighed and now Arthur could see an invisible weight on his friend that had not been there before. “I wish all this was under better circumstances.”

 

Gaius placed a hand over his heart, bowing slightly at Arthur who could not help but shift uncomfortably. He was never one for shows of fealty, especially after he rejected his so-called royal status.

 

“Why did Mordred attack the surface?” Merlin’s sharp question broke the solemn mood and allowed Arthur to relax. “I felt the ocean around almost all seashores on the planet rise in fury. What he did was not to _Its_ liking, no matter how Mordred thinks he can command the sea without repercussion, as Atlantis’ King.”

 

Arthur’s mouthed ‘on the planet?’ and his incredulity was lost to Merlin and Gaius, who were focused on their conversation.

 

“I have no doubt you felt it, my dear. At the end of all this, I am afraid Poseidon himself will not be able to quell the seas’ rage, if he was so inclined. Mordred’s actions place us in increasingly delicate situations.” Gaius sat back down in his seat, keeping a large crate acting as a table in between himself and the younger two. “That was just a warning, however. The King doesn’t have the authority to order anything major. At least, not yet.”

 

Gazing at each other momentarily, one in question and the other one in worry, Arthur and Merlin sat in front of Gaius who continued his explanation.

 

“The Council of the Kings was destroyed yesterday by a surface warship, effectively attacking both King Mordred and King Balinor during their alliance meeting. This provoked the violent response and, more worrisome, Xebel’s agreement to side with Atlantis in its war efforts against the humans.”

 

“My father did…?” Merlin trailed off, frowning and clenching his fists.

 

“That doesn’t sound right, the surface couldn’t have attacked them.” Arthur frowned, crossing his arms.

 

“I was there, my prince. The attack was sudden but premeditated. The King managed to destroy the warship entirely, but not before there were casualties.”

 

Completely ignoring his title, Gaius always did like to call him that, Arthur shook his head in denial. “Humans still think of Atlantis as a fairytale, not even a legend or a myth. Hell, they think I’m a metahuman! They also don’t go shooting whatever they want, even on international waters.”

 

Gaius hummed, thoughtful but not surprised. Arthur narrowed his eyes. “This was underwater, even if closer to the surface than any of our outposts. That place used to be a sacred meeting point for all the kingdoms of the sea. The great missiles fired completely obliterated it.” Gaius sighed mournfully. “So much history lost…”

 

Something was niggling at the back of his mind. Arthur’s mind was racing to process all the information. ‘Underwater? It must have been a submarine. But firing indiscriminately? And destroyed so easily? What about…?’

 

His train of thought got interrupted by Merlin’s hand slapping the table loudly.

 

“Xebel uniting with Atlantis means Mordred’s fleet is mightier now than ever before.” Stormy blue eyes were brimming with contained anger, but Arthur suspected they were also hiding deep hurt and sadness.

 

Gaius nodded briskly. “The alliance gives the King a big enough force to push the other two kingdoms, willing or not, to join the war efforts. With four out of seven in agreement, our ancient laws state we can declare war on the surface, legally and with the full backing of the ocean even if not its consent.” Sharp and determined eyes focused on Arthur. “If we want to stop all of this from happening, you must dethrone your brother immediately, Arthur.”

 

“You can’t keep throwing that on my face Gaius! I’m not King material,” grumbled Arthur, exasperated.

 

“ _Arthur_ ,” this time the admonishment came from Merlin. “If Mordred gets his agreements, he can assume the mantle of Ocean Master, gaining control over a worldwide fleet and greater command of the sea. All that power in the hands of such an individual-!”

 

“I wouldn’t know where to begin!” Arthur stood up, anxiously dragging a hand through his hair. “I’ve always been just a half-breed to Atlantis. Why would they accept me as their King now?!”

 

“Because, whatever the circumstances of your birth, _you_ are the rightful King. No matter what you think of yourself, Arthur, you are enough. Strong, smart and worthy, that position is yours, now more than ever.” Gaius unwavering voice and unshakable faith in him both humbled and emboldened Arthur.

 

He groaned, refusing to acknowledge the words nor the lack of protests from Merlin, who sent him a calculating look.

 

“Be that as it may, Atlantis will not be easily swayed,” said Merlin, turning back to Gaius. Arthur gestured at the younger prince and sent a look to Gaius, as if to say ‘that’s right! He’s making sense!’.

 

“It will not, unless Arthur can prove beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he is the best candidate.” Here, Gaius paused to bring out a cylinder covered in a frayed yellowish fabric. He spread the fabric, which turned out to be an illustration, and left the cylinder besides it in view. “By retrieving this weapon.”

 

Arthur looked at the figures stitched in the revealed fabric. There was a trident of golden hue in the center, with maritime animal shapes and wave-like designs surrounding it. At the bottom, there were symbols that resembled words. The longer he stared at them, the more they danced until Arthur could read them. He rubbed his eyes before trying to see the drawing again.

 

‘Promised Victory’ it read, clearly, even if Arthur knew instinctively that those words were not written in any human language he had learnt.

 

“The Golden Trident of Atlan,” Gaius announced.

 

“Of the Primeval Rule,” Merlin muttered in wonder.

 

“A fairytale, Gaius?” Arthur groused, looking at said man in disbelief. That earned him a swap to the back of his head.

 

“This is no more a fairytale than Atlantis is, whatever your humans believe,” said Gaius, firm and vexed.

 

“It doesn’t matter. I like my current weapon just fine, thanks very much,” he protested, pointing back over his shoulder at his shimmering quindent. That faithful thing had saved him from worse scrapes than this.

 

“The point is, Arthur, that no one has seen it in centuries. While other kingdoms retained their symbols of power, Atlantis’ Trident was hidden by Atlan himself. It has been said that only the worthy can retrieve it.”

 

“Worthy?”

 

“That’s right. The one true king of the seas.”

 

Merlin’s choked gasp drew Arthur’s attention. He eyed his companion worriedly for a moment before turning back to Gaius. The blond blinked, seeing a barely there smirk in the royal advisor’s face before it cleared.

 

“Find it, bring it here, and the people will listen and more than likely accept your suit.”

 

“There’s so many things wrong in that sentence,” Arthur said, flabbergasted.

 

Gaius pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and index finger, clearly asking for patience from any higher being willing to grant it.

 

Merlin was strangely silent and pensive, worrying his lower lip.

 

Arthur stared at that swollen, plump lip before shaking himself to the present.

 

“Look, Gaius, this all sounds very fantastic, even for you. This thing has been lost for ages. How would I know where to even start?”

 

“By using this,” Gaius moved the cylinder to the center of the table. “An archaeological find from years ago, hidden among the atlantean treasures. The late King Lot put very little faith in our legends and prophecies, bar one,” The advisor eyed Merlin who flushed and looked away. Arthur was starting to feel annoyed with all the secretive back and forth. “So he was never interested in things of this nature, unlike me.”

 

“You sly old man, you stole it?” Arthur questioned, bemused.

 

“I merely borrowed, for an important purpose. This here is, according to mine and other historians’ studies, an antiquated message bearer from the times of the first dynasties, when the Deserter kingdom still existed. It may be something from Atlan himself, or another clue that leads to the Trident.”

 

“It may be? You don’t know what it says?”

 

Merlin leaned in and fingered the top of the cylinder. “This technology is too old for anything we have to read it. If we force it, we could end up breaking it. We cannot risk losing this lead, it could be the only one.”

 

“And if it’s not even a lead? What if this is a useless treasure hunt you’re sending me on?”

 

“Arthur, have a little faith. This cylinder was found among passages alluding to Atlantis’ symbol, and it contains etches not seen in anything other than in deserter artifacts.” His teacher grabbed the object and made to hand it to Arthur. “Take it, go to the Deserter capital and find a reading mechanism.”

 

Too many things crossed his mind in that second, but ultimately Arthur’s gut was telling him to try. He looked at Merlin, sitting at his side and staring back at him. It was his decision, but somehow he knew that the prince would abide by it.

 

Arthur did not want to fail.

 

He gathered his resolve and reached for the cylinder-

 

An explosion shook the whole structure, blowing a new hole on its side. Merlin was thrown over the table crate, landing near a collapsed Gaius, while Arthur was launched over an opening in the deck, falling painfully to the level below.

 

The rotten wood around him groaned, and debris fell on his face. His heart beat loud and fast, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

 

A loud thump came from nearby. An armored body, with a helmet containing water, had crossed into the air pocket and aimed a rifle-like weapon to his chest.

 

“Halt! You are under arrest for illegal entry!”

 

Three more guards entered the ship, all white armored, and surrounded the slumped form of Arthur.

 

‘So much for few venture down here, _Mer_ lin!’ Arthur thought, clenching his jaw before gauging that all the guards were in the best positions they could be.

 

Swinging his legs up in an arc and pushing off from the floor with his hands over his shoulders, Arthur rose abruptly, throwing himself at the armored atlantean right across him and grabbing him around his waist, tackling him to the ground.

 

Energy beams shot behind him seconds after, powering down immediately at seeing him on top of an ally. Arthur took the chance to punch the helmet under him, cracking the protective crystal. The man started choking, but Arthur had already moved on to fight the others.

 

Pieces of the ship kept raining down on them, and scorch marks sizzled around him. Between beating another two, Arthur managed to grab a rifle and released the charged beam to the last of the standing guards, launching him outside of the air pocket. His arms were full of thin burn marks from his close encounters with the energy beams, by the end.

 

Then, a mechanical groan resounded at his back and three new guards, bulky and red armored, appeared. They wielded swords of atlantean steel, which could cut him easily. Without hesitation, Arthur cleared the distance to the first one and slammed him against the nearest wall.

 

It became a dance, deadlier than the one with the whites. These were clearly better trained, and their armor provided better protection.

 

But that was not enough against Arthur.

 

Red with exertion and panting for breath, the blond stood victorious with a sword on his hands and his enemies laid at his feet.

 

Another thump came, this time from the second level where the first explosion occurred. Arthur’s heart squeezed, Merlin had been up there.

 

With long sure steps, he climbed the miraculously still standing plank from before and stopped when he reached the deck. This time, the red armored guard had no helmet and he was standing by the pearlescent quindent about to grab it.

 

“Don’t!” Arthur growled, ready to swing his sword in a wide arc. The man turned around and revealed a shocked, familiar face. Medium length, wild curls colored dirty blond framed his old friend’s light wide eyes, and the sword held at his side lowered.

 

Arthur gasped, mouthing ‘Leon?’.

 

Said man startled and motioned behind Arthur, but it was too late.

 

A high powered punch cracked against Arthur’s upper back, hurling him towards a supporting beam. He crashed against interminable planks until he met the ground, painfully, once more.

 

Addled, Arthur turned around weakly, trying to clear his head only to watch as an unstoppable follow-up punch headed towards his face. The far away words ‘By His Majesty, King Mordred, I place you under arrest’ echoed in his ringing ears seconds before his world turned black, and he knew no more.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Sunken Shipwreck**

 

Merlin had the unpleasant feeling that being thrown around due to explosions was going to become a thing. He was sure that, somehow, this was all Arthur’s fault.

 

He tried to move his aching limbs, groaning softly before a hand clamped over his mouth. Gaius motioned for silence, warily looking over Merlin’s shoulder.

 

They both turned to watch as, in the lower deck, Arthur was surrounded by a sentry squadron readying their plasma cannons. Merlin was about to throw himself out of their hiding place, his mind running over all the bad scenarios if Arthur were to be captured, when he felt Gaius’ tight grip on his arm.

 

“You cannot be seen here!” His friend whispered urgently and Merlin knew he was right. Their plotting and scheming would amount to nothing if either of them were found out by Mordred.

 

Thinking fast, he looked around for an escape route when he noticed something glinting at the corner of his eye. He felt his stomach lurch; the cylinder had rolled all the way across from them.

 

He could not use aquakinesis, as the water magic was being employed by the atlantean weaponry and a surge would alert the guards of a nearby sorcerer. However, his regular magic could not be felt by anyone not closely accustomed to Merlin’s presence, so he acted.

 

Muttering a word of power under his breath, he reached out to the artifact and felt its own ancient magic fight him before surrendering and floating towards them. Surprised at the unnatural resistance, Merlin still grabbed the cylinder and put it away in his pouch.

 

Gaius, on the other hand, had been busy trying to get the fabric with the Trident’s illustration from beneath the overturned crate table where it had caught. Merlin looked at him questioningly.

 

“They must not find out what Arthur is about,” the advisor answered his unspoken query.

 

The pull of magic drew Merlin’s attention and he swallowed at seeing the atlantean steel of the swords wielded by Mordred’s personal knights. This was more than a simple patrol getting lucky. Someone had been tracking them, and they apparently knew who it was that had breached Atlantis’ borders.

 

“How did they know to look for us?” Merlin asked, heart hammering at the view of Arthur parrying the weapons and holding his own against the red armored guards.

 

Gaius hummed, using the distraction below to find a nearby opening on a corner of the old ship. “It seems political immunity is not being respected. The King’s paranoia must have the border patrol scanning everyone and everything indiscriminately.”

 

Merlin sighed in relief at seeing Arthur standing while all the others were left unconscious. Then, Gaius’ words registered and guilt flooded him. “This was my fault. I should have seen it coming!”

 

Gaius hissed in warning as another high ranking knight entered the ship, this time on the same level they were on. Merlin recognized the uncovered face and would have felt relieved if he had not also noticed the other, bigger knight that appeared in the level above.

 

“Captain Valiant,” he mumbled, and knew that this whole thing was their loss. Gaius led him away, slowly and silently, while the ruckus caused by Arthur racing up the plank distracted everyone else.

 

Merlin followed his friend out of the air pocket and the ship. All the while, he felt as if his heart wanted out of his chest. He could only think of Arthur, and hope for his survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Chapter 6: Conflict, Thy Name Is...
> 
> Someone broods, someone panics, and a forbidding King makes it hard for Arthur to keep a level head.


	6. Conflict, Thy Name Is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone broods, someone panics, and a forbidding King makes it hard for Arthur to keep a level head.

^~^~^~^

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Sunken Shipwreck**

 

Leon did his best to maintain a blank expression while facing his superior. Captain Valiant was harsh in his punishments for presumed disrespect. He was worse if there was suspicion of betrayal to his esteemed King.

 

The muscled, huge man sneered at the slumped form of their prisoner - by the Gods, that was  _ Arthur _ \- and signaled Leon to bring the restraints.

 

Burying his apprehension, Leon fastened the energy cuffs around Arthur’s wrists pulling them behind his back, as gently as he could without sacrificing a secure grip, and placed bigger ones on his ankles.

 

The captain, satisfied with the fettered look of the captive, walked off to the lower levels to study their fallen comrades.

 

Leon took hold of Arthur, a dead weight in his unconsciousness, and threw him over his shoulder. Thankfully, the broadness of his upper chest armor made for a better place to hold the body than Leon’s natural shoulder width. He headed down, just in time to see Valiant kick one of the fainted guards in frustration. He bit his tongue to stop himself from commenting.

 

“Useless, pieces of garbage. We are supposed to be the Elite, the King’s highly trusted soldiers!” The brute of a man snarled, whipping around and raising his sword to take a swing at Arthur.

 

Leon reflexively took a step back and held his head high. “Captain, the prisoner is ready for transportation. The King’s orders are clear. We must take him to the amphitheater to await judgment.”

 

Valiant’s scowl darkened before he rolled his shoulders and stalked away. Before Leon could sigh in relief, the other man turned around sharply and pointed threateningly back.

 

“ _ You _ do not have to tell  _ me _ what my King’s orders are. Know your place.” Came the hissed remark, before the man disappeared out of the air pocket. Those hostile eyes had held Leon’s intensely, through the protective barrier of Valiant’s armored helmet.

 

Leon closed his eyes and breathed deeply, before choosing to ignore that response. Valiant had always been jealous of him, and that was never going to change.

 

Leon was a natural born leader, and a patient teacher. He trained the troops in skill and strength, and had climbed the fleet levels quickly, reaching an enviable position in the King’s personal knights. All of that was on top of being a high born, the only son to a noble family in the upper echelon of atlantean politics.

 

Valiant believed that he had gotten everything handed to him, and he raged even more at the limitations on his body that Leon’s high birth dispensed of. Everyone in the barracks whispered that the only reason Valiant was captain of the Elite instead of Leon was due to his overzealous loyalty to King Mordred. 

 

His skills were considered not on par with the younger knight.

 

Leon did not care. The King’s paranoia was not an attractive trait and he did not mind serving second place to such a person.

 

Leon had accomplished everything by his own merit. His efforts came from a desire to place himself as high as possible, in the event that his wayward prince decided to take his rightful place among the atlantean royalty.

 

Arthur was everything Leon knew a King ought to be. Regardless of their youth, back then the prince had demonstrated an earnest belief in true justice, a love for all creatures of the sea, and an enduring respect for the ocean and its folk. At least, that had been before the news of his mother’s passing had reached him.

 

Leon had been devastated at the purposeful separation, but no less loyal. Fealty, once given, would never be withdrawn by an atlantean like him. He had bestowed his to Arthur, completely.

 

So he waited and he grew and he trained. Were his prince to ever call on him, he would be ready.

 

And yet, what had the stupid man gotten himself into this time? This seemed definitely up Arthur’s alley, but it was not any less worrisome. How was he supposed to act and when?

 

All these questions echoed in his mind, unanswered, while he went through the motions of calling for a retrieval team for the fallen guards, swimming to his parked vehicle and placing his esteemed cargo in the back as comfortable as he could.

 

Feeling the approaching presence from behind, Leon straightened and closed the door of his ship with finality. He turned around to see Valiant’s glaring countenance.

 

“Come with me” he growled, and Leon followed without question, rather glad to keep that man away from his prince.

 

They came to an outcrop where an abandoned sleek ship rested. The model was a recent one, and the systems were clearly operational.

 

“Scan it,” Valiant ordered, and Leon took out the device capable of it, activating it and studying the results.

 

“It’s a xebellian ship with an identification number registered under diplomatic immunity,” Leon read off dutifully. He eyed the other man, noting that Valiant did not seem surprised.

 

“I got you now, little deceiver,” He mumbled under his breath. Leon held his silence.

 

“Log it in. Have the nearest patrol retrieve this ship. I want all its records sent to my personal terminal. No word to anyone about where and when it was found. Seal off the report of this incident as well.”

 

Valiant stalked away again, having finished spouting his orders. He climbed into his own watercraft and sped away, with nary a blink in Arthur’s direction.

 

Leon felt incredulously lucky for a moment, before an incoming message chirped in his communicator’s screen. It read ‘King Mordred expects prisoner facing charges in amphitheater by the end of the hour. A delay will be reason for severe punishment’. Valiant could be perceptive, it seemed.

 

Leon clicked his tongue and prepared to drive in the direction of the castle. He would have to fulfill the rest of his orders upon arrival. 

 

Arthur would have to make due until he could think of something. He had a feeling Gaius would help.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Castle’s Royal Guests Wing**

 

Merlin paced and fretted. He was building himself up to an anxiety attack when a knock at his doors reverberated and called for his attention. 

 

He smoothed a hand down his armor (unnecessary) and took a deep breath (very necessary) before he called for the guest to enter, having sat himself behind his desk, every inch the prince interrupted during his work. It was not as if the paperwork strewn everywhere was fake.

 

Gaius walked in and Merlin slumped in both relief and apprehension.

 

“He has been captured,” Gaius started, talking quickly to Merlin’s growing confusion. “He was taken by the knights to the amphitheater, where he will be judged by-”

 

Before any more words were uttered, the doors to his chambers opened again, without a request for entry this time. King Mordred, in all his glory, walked inside to stand at the center of the room. Gaius took a step back and bowed deeply. Merlin stood up from his place, smiled and bowed slightly less than the advisor.

 

“Merlin, I heard you were back. Why didn’t you come find me?” The low tenor of his voice was a far cry from the appealing baritone of his brother, Merlin pondered, before shaking himself.

 

“It wasn’t that long a trip, Mordred. The outpost was not that far. I’m afraid I remembered that, on top of the report of my findings on said outpost, I had too much paperwork still to sort through. Please, forgive me, my friend,” Merlin’s pleasant attitude revealed nothing.

 

“We shall dine together this evening then. I understand more than most how a break from paperwork can increase our life expectancy,” Mordred said, grinning mischievously. Merlin did not have to fake his resulting laugh, but a clenched fist hidden behind the desk gave relief to his conflicting emotions.

 

Mordred was a master at deceit, but Merlin knew that his friend had not always been so conniving and insincere. Every once in a while, he could see glimpses of the young man Mordred used to be, and each time he mourned Ygraine’s passing all the more.

 

“Gaius! My trusted advisor, why ever are you here in my consort’s rooms?” Mordred’s genuinely light questioning tone caused an unpleasant shiver to run down Merlin’s spine. He hated being referenced as such, and it seemed more upsetting now when an image of an exasperated Arthur flashed in his mind.

 

What was the prat doing now and why had Merlin been stupid enough to get him captured?

 

“My King, had I been aware you were coming here I would not have bothered,” replied Gaius, warmly, waving away Mordred’s gesture to a nearby seat. Merlin knew that the advisor would not want to stay longer than needed in the presence of the King. “I merely came to inform Prince Merlin of his father’s arrival, as bid by King Balinor, following the successful alliance to your campaign.”

 

“That’s right! Congratulations, Mordred. However much I am against the idea of conflict in general, I know how much you looked forward to this. As I have said in the past, Xebel stands with you.”

 

Mordred tilted his head, an affected look on his face. “Gaius didn’t mention the attack?”

 

“I’m afraid I had not gotten to that, sire,” Gaius sighed.

 

“Attack?” Merlin asked, approaching Mordred and making a show of checking him for injuries. The King held his wrist, stopping his fusing. Merlin let him, his worry not all faked.

 

“I’m alright. Nothing to worry about,” Mordred said, softly, squeezing lightly the wrist in his hold. However, from one moment to the next, his mien darkened coldly. “It was a surface ship, attacking our meeting place. They destroyed the Council of the Kings, and injured many. Your father-”

 

“What! My father what?! Is he alright?!” Merlin looked at Gaius, fear in his eyes, before turning back to Mordred. He placed a hand on the collar of the King’s armor in his panic.

 

His friend tapped his hand to calm him down, visibly uncomfortable with Merlin’s actions. 

 

Merlin vaguely resented Gaius for having kept some details to himself.

 

“He’s alright, slightly injured but rearing to go. Balinor shot down the remaining missiles while I destroyed the vessel. Worry not, your father will be coming today, hale and hearty.”

 

Merlin ignored the patronizing words, in lieu of sighing in relief. His heart could not take any more excitement.

 

“Your Majesty,” called someone from the still open doors. The occupants of the room looked towards the entrance where Captain Valiant was poised in a deep bow. “Everything is ready.”

 

“Excellent!” exclaimed Mordred, his hand tightening over Merlin’s wrist. “We should be going then.”

 

“Going where?” Merlin asked, while Mordred nodded to Gaius, signaling him to precede them. Valiant stepped aside, and fell behind his King once the engaged pair walked past.

 

“I’m afraid a rather upsetting individual has decided to grace us with his presence, at last. He caused quite a commotion. I have ordered him to be taken to my auditorium, to be judged.” Mordred’s tone was lighthearted, but his features radiated deep agitation. He had been affected by Arthur’s appearance. “I have to say, however, I look forward to meeting my half-brother.”

 

Merlin made himself gasp. “Your brother is here? That brute?”

 

He had not made it a mystery that he had disliked Ygraine’s first born from the start. Looking back, Merlin was ashamed at how he had ranted about Arthur. 

 

But he could not really be blamed, the man had been a menace! With that mocking, tantalizing smirk and those enchanting bright eyes... Also, Arthur talked before thinking, exuded pompousness and how could he act like such a snob when he had supposedly rejected his royal station?

 

That aside, Arthur had proved quite different from the first impression. Merlin had to be honest about his curious desire to get to know him more.

 

Mordred huffed, side-eyeing him amused. “Yes. I wish for you to be by my side for the encounter. I do not know how calm I can keep myself in his presence.” That, Merlin could believe was the truth. “You as well, Gaius.”

 

“As you command, sire.”

 

They walked in silence the remaining distance. Mordred had let go of Merlin’s wrist along the way, instead placing his hand at the crook of his elbow. Their entrance was without fanfare, Mordred’s attention quickly caught by the slumped and chained figure at the bottom of the room. He headed to the right side of the throne structure first, letting Merlin take a seat, before regally taking his place.

 

Merlin cleared his face of all expression and watched everyone around.

 

Valiant took a stand near his King in parade rest. Gaius sat down at the left side of the throne with folded hands. Mordred stared hungrily at his unconscious prisoner.

 

Merlin took a deep breath and prepared to watch the proceedings. Regretfully, he eyed the naked torso of the first prince, absentmindedly counting the bruises, scratches and burns littering the tanned, muscled chest. Were it up to him… but he digressed. 

 

The knight Leon had probably taken care of the prisoner as much as he was able, unbiased as he was, but Valiant would have made that difficult. Now, it was his turn. Merlin would do what he could to mitigate any consequences to Arthur, however unlikely he was to succeed.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Amphitheater**

 

A burning, agonizing shock coursing through his veins woke Arthur up. The crackling from an energy weapon was coming from behind him, and his sore, aching back was probably the origin of the pulsing pain running all over his body.

 

He panted, blinking his eyes and trying to clear his muddled mind.

 

Delirious, he thought of the much more pleasant shock that had come from the touch of Merlin’s hand the second time they met, in his hometown. How he wished he could curl up back to sleep and dream of that creamy, pale skin and those pouty lips.

 

The drag from chains resounded, and Arthur felt his arms stretching uncomfortably. An unpleasant weight on his neck made it difficult to swallow, and his ankles were also held back by something. Looking around, Arthur spied hundreds of soldiers, white armored like that patrol that had found them first, standing in an ordered parade rest and floating at his sides.

 

Closing his fists, Arthur tested his restraints, finally noticing the chains and the hinges that bound him to the floor. Said chains were not fastened to the ground, rather there were guards holding the other ends and swimming back to keep him in place. 

 

Foolish. If there was something Arthur was confident in, it was his strength.

 

They had even placed the quindent right in front of him, out of his reach due to the restraints. Taunting.

 

Arthur took a long breath, tasting the unique waters of Atlantis which were quickly growing familiar, and prepared to force his wannabe manacles to strain against his strength when a loud echo called his attention to the front.

 

“Welcome to Atlantis…” a figure garbed in an eye-catching gold armor stood up from a gigantic throne, floating above with a silly long cape fluttering in their wake. 

 

Ridiculous, was Arthur’s first thought. 

 

“...brother!” 

 

_ Hell _ no, was Arthur’s second thought.

 

The man, apparently his little brother, held a facade of regality and calm. To Arthur, though, the fury and hate was right below the surface on that face that shared his mother’s nose and the slant of her cheeks.

 

His gaze turned to the man’s companions and he held a sigh of relief at seeing both Merlin and Gaius unharmed. It was slightly disconcerting finding them both up there and remembering that, for all their cloak and dagger schemes, they were either royalty or of high status which allowed them to sit besides the King. They stood to lose much, and so Arthur held his tongue and prepared to disregard all of his brother’s words.

 

“How unbelievable that, after so…  _ many… _ years, you stand before us at last.”

 

Mordred’s words took on a lilting quality that made it easy to push to the background. As discreetly as possible, Arthur observed every inch of Merlin’s visible skin to reassure himself. 

 

The sharp cheekbones were as gorgeous as ever, if slightly paler than during their trip and subsequent adventure. The delicate crown at his temples was back, after having been put away since the lighthouse. His hands were demurely folded on his lap and his sitting posture was painfully straight, but to Arthur the view was lovely just because it was Merlin.

 

There was something about him that drew Arthur’s attention, like a moth to a flame. He could not quite put his finger on it.

 

“I had only ever heard stories of you. The grandest of them all being your participation in the Motherbox battle.”

 

Arthur drew his eyes away from his captivating little fish, and studied Gaius’ form. Aside from the general sense of exhaustion from his teacher, Gaius seemed healthy. Honestly, he would probably outlive them all.

 

“Stories, however, do not ever live up to reality. No matter how accomplished you appear, your presence only brings back my enduring shame over our mother.”

 

Arthur’s breath hitched, and his widened eyes clashed with the icy blue of the man known as his brother. Mordred smirked at finally having his full attention.

 

“Her, the once venerated Queen, who defiled herself by laying with a human and producing a half-breed.” The King clicked his tongue and his gaze roved over the rest of the attendees, his soldiers. “That shameful stain on my lineage could only ever be fixed by my running the King’s trident through your heart. How many times I dreamed of that moment.”

 

Mordred’s contemplative words fueled a deep anger and self-shame at the core of Arthur. His fierce mother should not be dishonored so, much less by a son.

 

Unthinking, his powerful legs kicked off the ground and sent Arthur flying towards the King. His fists strained to punch that damned smirk off that duplicitous face, so much like his mother’s. But his approach was abruptly stopped by the efforts of several guards holding the other end of his chains. Under other circumstances, Arthur would be amused at the increase in their numbers. Here and now, there was nothing to laugh about.

 

Arthur snarled at Mordred’s face, inches from him.

 

The King blinked, unflinching.

 

“Yet, now that you are before me, I confess to finding myself  _ conflicted _ .”

 

“Why don’t you take these chains off, little brother, and I can show you  _ conflicted _ . We’ll see who gets run through, then.”

 

Mordred’s low chuckles grated on his nerves. The red haze of Arthur’s fury kept him from seeing the exchanged looks between Merlin and Gaius, who remained unmoving behind the King. The hiss of an energy sword could be heard from behind the throne, a bodyguard no doubt.

 

So much for disregarding his brother’s words. It seemed that it was time to go with his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next, Chapter 7: Provoking Contention 
> 
> A challenge for the throne is issued and accepted, frustrating all but the unappreciative participants.


	7. Provoking Contention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A challenge for the throne is issued and accepted, frustrating all but the unappreciative participants.

~*~*~*~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Amphitheater**

 

This could not possibly be going worse.

 

Merlin withheld the urge to bite at his nails, which was not only unseemly but also very much not appropriate when one was trying to appear unaffected by current events. His hands clenched so hard on his lap, they went white. In addition, the magic at his core was struggling to come out, blazing power being barely held back by his will alone.

 

He closed his eyes hard to hide the nascent glow of his irises. It burned for a second before fading, dormant once again under his control.

 

Such a thing had never happened before. His magic just did not react to anything outside his conscious thought. Curiously, it seemed like something had called for it and, unhesitatingly, it had responded.

 

Merlin frowned before opening his eyes again, setting aside that mystery for another time. The first thing he saw was Arthur, gloriously sculpted and righteously furious.

 

Both him and Mordred were staring each other down, similarly tensed and stubborn.

 

He could see the family resemblance.

 

While Arthur was golden haired and lightly tanned by his time in the surface, Mordred was dark haired and fair skinned. The contrast between the siblings was very obvious when they were together, and it called to mind Merlin’s sisters. Morgana and Morgause, often likened to the moon and the sun by their own people, were a similar match. The main difference between them, however, was the lack of affection.

 

Merlin felt deeply sad. Had Ygraine been with them, this meeting would have surely been different.

 

“Is that what this is all about?” Mordred’s freezing tone resounded, challenging and mocking at the same time. “The reason why you finally taint  _ my _ halls with your presence? Why you brought our mother’s weapon?”

 

Mordred paused dramatically, and Arthur frowned. Merlin pursed his lips, knowing how his old friend enjoyed circling logic and verbal spars with his opponents.

 

“You came here to kill me?” His seemingly innocent question sent a feeling of foreboding down Merlin’s spine.

 

Arthur bared his teeth, ignorant to the shuffling sounds of the soldiers below. Merlin gazed around the room and remembered that, despite Mordred’s growing instability and recent careless rulings, he was the King and Atlantis was nothing if not loyal to her seat of power.

 

“I came here to stop you from destroying the surface.”

 

Arthur’s response also echoed in the cavernous auditorium, strong and unyielding. Most soldiers shifted nervously, unfamiliar with their King’s ultimate plans. Merlin would have slapped the back of Arthur’s head if he could, since not many were supposed to be informed.

 

Mordred hummed, unfazed. “Is that so? And what of the destruction the surface brings to our seas, our homes? Endless and all-reaching?” The King’s voice gained a more dangerous edge.

 

Merlin thought about Mordred’s never changing opinion of the human world, and decided Arthur’s revelation was nothing really surprising. The warning tides sent to the human shores the day previous should be common knowledge by now.

 

“Centuries we have watched as poison is poured, animals are hunted, our people are killed and our ocean is tainted, all done by human hands. What then could you be doing here other than stating your place, siding with the monsters that will eventually wipe all existence from the planet?”

 

Merlin’s heart tugged painfully, aware of the truth of Mordred’s words but firmly believing that this was not the way. Solutions that would ensure both races knew less death would be preferable than the total annihilation of one. No matter what, humans and seaborn were still related, their ancient ancestors having been one people before the Gods and Mother Earth.

 

“In this conflict, there are no sides. And war is not the answer,” entreated Arthur, serious but no less affected by his brother’s words.

 

“Well, your answer is to clearly stand against your own people, placing a challenge before the throne,” Mordred retorted, a dark sneer in his handsome features. How convenient he worded his accusations, twisting his words to Arthur and making him seem both troubled and confrontational.

 

“If that’s what it takes to stop you!” said Arthur fiercely.

 

Merlin’s breath hitched while Gaius leaned forward in his seat almost unconsciously. The idle movement down the ranks ceased as all heads turned rigidly to the spectacle between the King and the half-breed.

 

Mordred grinned savagely for a second before his expression turned falsely incredulous.

 

“Are you invoking the combat of Kings, for the right to the crown?” The misleading tone seemed to infuriate Arthur.

 

“Sure, if it ends with me free to kick your ass.”

 

Merlin really wanted to strangle Arthur, to stop him from doing stupid stuff like this. What a dollophead! Who knew how Mordred would take it-?

 

“Then I accept. We shall proceed.”

 

- **damned** be the whole pantheon, this was  _ not _ on the plan!

 

“Your Majesty!” exclaimed Gaius, unable to resist.

 

“Mordred, wait!” Merlin added, vaguely pleading and a lot worried.

 

Mordred waved a hand for silence. “This is the best outcome. What better way to prove before all oceanic kingdoms that I am the One True King, than with the defeat of Queen Ygraine’s first born?”

 

Again with that prophesied accolade! Merlin would destroy something the next time someone mentioned it...

 

“Your Majesty!” Merlin implored, catching Mordred’s attention as it was seldom he used his title. “Would they truly consider it a victory, to defeat an ignorant? Your  _ brother _ is clearly an  _ imbecile _ ,” Merlin emphasized, glaring at the blond over the King’s shoulder. Arthur raised an eyebrow and his mouth went o-shaped, as if he did not know what he had done.

 

Imbecile, indeed.

 

“My King, he does not know the ways of the seaborn,” continued Gaius, reasonably.

 

Whatever Mordred had thought of Merlin’s words was hidden by the blank gaze he sent to his advisor. He turned back to Arthur.

 

“That is no excuse. In fact, he would be better off educating himself by experience,” Mordred said.

 

There was something in Mordred’s response to Gaius that sent a warning sign to Merlin. He swallowed any more words, conscious that the King was done listening to advice.

 

“Are you placing an official challenge?” Mordred asked formally, once again facing against Arthur.

 

“Yes, I am. And when I win-” said Arthur, leaning back when Mordred moved suddenly forward.

 

“IF you win, I will cease all actions against your humans.” Mordred’s reasonable tone, and terms, had Arthur relaxing. “However, if I win…” Mordred narrowed his eyes, fists clenched.

 

Merlin had the impression that if the King had his trident in hand, Arthur would have been skewered already.

 

“... You. Are.  Done .”

 

That word echoed with dark promises.

 

“Alright,” answered Arthur bravely.

 

“So be it. Prepare him for the Ring of Fire, this challenge has been accepted!”

 

Arthur’s startled ‘the what?’ was ignored by all parties present. Mordred swam around, heading towards Valiant who handed him his trident back. Merlin exchanged another look with Gaius before standing from his seat and swimming towards the King.

 

Before Gaius turned to follow, he signaled someone down below to take command of Arthur in observance of the King’s orders.

 

Merlin, now hidden from sight by the huge throne in the dais, was swimming slightly behind Mordred, aware that his friend was in no mood for neither company nor comfort. Valiant shot the prince a cold, hardened look which Merlin ignored. The captain was always finding something disapproving in the xebellian royal.

 

Gaius appeared, offering his arm to Merlin to escort him back. They had much to talk, but both knew that it would be impossible with the current atmosphere.

 

Merlin wished he had his sisters nearby, to ask for sorely needed advice.

 

Arthur had not recommended himself well to the people of Atlantis, bidding for the throne as he did. Mordred’s terms were all fine and good, but Arthur did not know what he would become in the event of a win. Were he to fail...

 

Knowing Mordred, he would call to the coliseum as large an audience as could be invited in the short amount of time. The reckless oaf of a first prince would have to do something incredible to gain approval by the masses.

 

Should Arthur best Mordred, it would still not be enough. Even if Merlin’s heart throbbed with the idea of him securing the crown and everything that came with it.

 

He could not decide if it was a good or bad feeling.

 

However, Mordred was never to be underestimated in the arena, and he had far more to lose than Arthur.

 

Merlin itched to find that pompous prat and take him far away. This was why their plan was what it was. Now, it lay in ruins.

 

Arthur, you  **idiot** .

 

~^~^~^~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Amphitheater**

 

With Valiant otherwise distracted by shadowing his King, when Gaius stood up to order the prisoner away, Leon was the one that moved to obey.

 

He signaled the guards that were restraining Arthur and they immediately swam back, retracting the chains and bringing him to the floor. Arthur did not fight, choosing to relax and let himself be taken.

 

Leon saw him give a last look to the raised dais where the throne was, a flash of something - warm and worried? - going over his features, before his face went expressionless. At least until he noticed that Leon was right beside him, directing the guards. With some amusement, the Elite knight saw the widened eyes and slack jaw of his prince before he regained control of himself.

 

After that, Arthur did not even look at him and Leon felt disappointment, perhaps even shame.

 

The guards worked quickly, barely hesitating when removing the shackles and, noting that Arthur did not fight back in any way, swiftly replacing those with energy cuffs. They left the prisoner’s legs free.

 

By that time, most of the amphitheater attendees were gone, including the King, his betrothed and his oldest advisor. Leon took hold of Arthur’s upper arm and guided him to a side door, pausing for a moment when the prince turned to look at the raised dais once again. 

 

Leon would have assumed he was looking for Gaius if that flash of something had not appeared again. He suspected that there was something he was missing, if the slightly yearning expression on Arthur’s face was any indication.

 

Leon opted to not say anything, deciding to think about it later in a more secure place.

 

They swam off, traveling through the service hallways back to the castle. Leon checked his wrist surreptitiously, waiting for a message to ping in his communicator. Arthur remained silent.

 

One by one the other guards went away at Leon’s subtle signals. Once they were alone, a missive came through stating that Arthur was to be taken to the old armory and allowed to arm himself however he wished with the weaponry there. Leon hid his outrage, well aware that the equipment in that room was either old enough to fall apart or simple discarded showpieces.

 

Before he could get worked up - and consider taking off with his prince, consequences be damned - Gaius sent a private message. It basically said to do as told, but that he would ensure Arthur had his proper weapon back.

 

“You look well,” muttered his previously silent companion, surprising Leon. Arthur side-eyed him.

 

“I would say the same about you but…” Leon responded, frowning, to which Arthur snorted.

 

“These past couple of days have been a wild ride. I blame Mer-err, my terrible luck,” said Arthur, coughing and looking around cautiously. 

 

Leon blinked as a thought sprung to mind. He let it go, for later consideration.

 

“It’s still good to see you.”

 

Arthur turned back to him, an immutable look coloring his features. Leon held his breath, feeling both examined and judged by that gaze. 

 

But whatever answer Arthur found in Leon’s face was not voiced, the prince merely going back to staring ahead.

 

Leon exhaled. It seemed that Arthur had not lost that sense of greatness in his bearing that he had only spied before in the late Queen.

 

Despite the endless hallways and their similar looks after every turn, Arthur gazed wonderingly at everything. Leon let him, content to remain quietly in his presence.

 

If only the circumstances were different…

 

The Elite knight pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly reminded of where they were going and why. Under normal circumstances, he would be delighted by Arthur’s appearance in Atlantis. This was a good way for his prince to gain recognition and formally join the royal family of the highest kingdom of the sea. Leon would then be free to swear his allegiance publicly and serve his sire properly.

 

At least, it would have been, if Mordred was not both King and the one Arthur had challenged to combat.

 

The question of what Arthur had been thinking was on the tip of his tongue, but the pair had arrived at their destination. Leon pressed forward and opened the double doors for the blond, who followed unquestioningly.

 

Once inside, Arthur stood observing the various weapons and armor around the place curiously, while Leon deactivated the cuffs and removed them. The prince rubbed his wrists.

 

“Why are we here?”

 

“This is… the armory. You are allowed to choose anything here in preparation for the upcoming event”.

 

“The event? And anything?”

 

“The combat of Kings for which you challenged his Majesty. And yes, anything within is yours for the taking.”

 

Arthur looked at him dubiously before swimming towards a wall and ruffling through the piles of armored equipment nearby. He surveyed a few pieces before sending a look to Leon over his shoulders.

 

“Generous of you,” was the sarcastic comment.

 

Leon sighed. “This was not my doing,” he paused, hesitating over his words but figuring that the armory was no place for heart to heart conversations. “I was ordered to bring you here. Had it been my choice, I would have taken you to the knights’ vault”.

 

Arthur cocked his head slightly to the side before returning to his inspection. Leon took it as the prince deciding to take his word for it.

 

“Who ordered you?” murmured his friend, distracted between two chest pieces that looked better than all others in the pile.

 

“Captain Valiant,” answered Leon promptly, before elaborating. “The one who placed you under arrest in the shipwreck.”

 

“Ah, the big guy. Hell of a punch,” mused Arthur, outfitting his chosen chest piece which included shoulder guards and moving to search for arm bracers.

 

Leon said nothing to that, crossing his arms and deciding to take the risk. “I apologize,” Arthur froze but kept his back turned. “I should have been faster… stopped him from getting to you.”

 

Hearing that, his prince moved to face Leon, still maintaining his distance. “Would you really have stopped him? Gone against your vows as a knight of the realm?”

 

The question resonated in the high ceiling room, giving Leon the impression that it was very important that he thinks his answer through. It appeared that Arthur remembered their childhood meetings well, and young Leon’s often prideful boasts that he would be the best, most loyal knight, who would follow every rule to the letter. 

 

How naive he had been back then.

 

Leon took a deep breath, bending one knee and placing his right fist to his heart. His posture was perfectly straight except for his bowed head. Here, before the one he had sworn himself to, Leon would show the obeisance he would not bestow on anyone else.

 

“Yes, I would have. In protection of my Prince.”

 

Leon waited a few seconds more before raising his head and staring at Arthur. His friend was contemplating something before swimming to Leon and offering his hand. The knight took it and stood upright.

 

Arthur used the hand as leverage to pull Leon in for a hug, patting his back with the other hand.

 

“I missed you old friend.”

 

Leon chuckled, the weight on his shoulders much lighter with the implied acceptance. “Me too, although I definitely did not miss your crazy stunts. What are you really doing here Arthur?”

 

They separated and Arthur rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “About that, I blame both Gaius and-”

 

“Your inability to think before acting? I agree,” a voice thundered behind them. Leon turned around swiftly, making to pull his sheathed sword, but relaxed upon seeing Gaius coming into the light of the shining jellyfish floating in the room.

 

Arthur swam from behind Leon, rolling his eyes so hard the knight wondered if his head ached.

 

“How could you have let Mordred bait you? To challenge the King to combat! This was  _ not _ what you were meant to do!”

 

Leon kept quiet, understanding now how Arthur entered into the city and glad that he had been right about Gaius’ involvement.

 

“Why are you so upset about this? It’s the perfect, fastest way to get what we want! Without impossible quests needed, I just get to beat him up and the surface is saved. Piece of cake.”

 

Leon swallowed the urge to interrupt, suspecting Gaius had much to say about that. Also, impossible quests?

 

“You are formidable as a surface warrior, no doubt rarely matched up there. But here, Arthur, Mordred would be a hard opponent to beat any day, let alone when confronted with a formal challenge. You cannot take this lightly!”

 

“I am not. But if I defeat him the whole war thing is over and I get to go home.”

 

Arthur’s reasonable tone did nothing to soften the blow Leon felt at the words. Of course the prince would still want to return to the surface.

 

“You are out of your element, Arthur, however much you think you can fight underwater. Mordred was trained all his life to be the best, as only the King can be.”

 

“Well wasn’t I trained by the best himself?  _ You  _ taught me Gaius.”

 

Gaius clicked his tongue, twirling the quindent that until then Leon had not noticed was on the advisor’s hand. The pearlescent shine of Queen Ygraine’s weapon danced around the room, before it was launched precisely towards Arthur, with the wicked deadly ends aimed at his chest.

 

Leon started, ready to take the hit for his prince before said man spun abruptly, avoiding the edges and grabbing the body of the quindent. Arthur pivoted in place, taking the weapon with him in the turn and hurling it back. It speared the statue nearest Gaius, digging in deep and vibrating with the force of Arthur’s throw.

 

Leon felt his heart in his throat. Everything had happened too fast.

 

Arthur was breathing hard, and Gaius stood staring at the still quivering shaft.

 

Then the knight and the advisor looked at the prince, whose shoulders suddenly looked big enough to bear a great weight.

 

Perhaps this was not going to go so easy for Mordred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, on Chapter 8: Combat of Kings
> 
> An unpleasant misunderstanding precedes the challenge for the throne and the follow up passionate clash between brothers.


	8. Combat of Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unpleasant misunderstanding precedes the challenge for the throne and the follow up passionate clash between brothers.

~~~*~~~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - “Ring of Fire” Colosseum, Underground Chamber**

 

Arthur had gone sort of mad, staying so long in that armory with only Gaius and Leon for company. Normally, he would not have minded, but having one friend incessantly staring at him with admiration and the other being creepily calculating had aggravated him.

 

So Arthur had spent the time ignoring the knight and the advisor as much as possible while he inspected all available equipment for the best armor, preparing for the upcoming battle.

 

If he was being honest, Arthur was feeling very nervous. The man he now knew as his brother appeared to be an unmitigated ass, but Mordred’s arrogance would not be so if he did not have the skills to back it up.

 

Also, Arthur could not forget that both Merlin and Gaius had tried very hard to avoid the challenge altogether. There may be something that the blond was missing…

 

The loud groaning of the large double doors being opened by Leon ahead of them brought Arthur out of his preoccupation. 

 

On the way to the place of combat, Gaius had been careful to keep a step ahead due to the technical difference in their status. He had been rigidly maintaining an unaffected bearing, his acting flawless. Leon, on the other hand, had remained a step behind, keeping watch over Arthur with a serious mien.

 

When they closed in on their destination, the knight had briskly swam to the front to ease their way. Now he bowed slightly to his prince, although it seemed meant for Gaius, bidding them to enter before closing the doors behind them. Leon remained outside, by order of the advisor.

                                                                      

Arthur did not mind their behavior (maybe Leon’s a bit). He understood perfectly how he was seen in Atlantis and that Gaius was only doing so to keep appearances.

 

Heading inside the room, the first thing he saw was the circular shape and the glowing walls shaded a soft red. The temperature quickly rose to a sweltering heat. 

 

Arthur spied the flowing lava circling (was it even supposed to work like this in real life?) at the edges of the stone platform that was the main floor of the room and felt moderately apprehensive. Fighting in these conditions would be dangerous but maybe he could swing it.

 

Arthur had never fought near an active volcano or any type of lava, but there was a first time for everything.

 

“Your Majesty, I bring you the challenger,” Gaius announced, bowing lowly to Mordred who was standing right in the middle of the room.

 

Arthur faced his opponent, having finished with his study of the surrounding molten peril, and his heart skipped a beat.

 

Merlin was beside the King, elegantly garbed in a dark blue suit made of silken fabric. He wore a high collared overcoat that reached mid thigh, which glittered like scales of different shades of azure. Around his neck was a flowing velvety crimson scarf that accented his gorgeous cheekbones.

 

Also, in lieu of a crown at his brow, Merlin’s black locks at each side of his temples were adorned by rainbow colored dew drop shaped pearls. They emphasized the enchanting deep blues eyes of the prince. 

 

Overall, he made a very scrumptious picture.

 

Arthur would have silently continued enjoying the view, if he had not noticed Merlin’s uncomfortable countenance. He was avoiding the blond’s gaze, unaware of his fidgeting with the jeweled golden cuff adorning his left wrist.

 

Gaius cleared his throat, calling for Arthur’s attention. Looking back at his old teacher for a moment and seeing a severe frown, Arthur turned back to the pair in front of him. 

 

Mordred caught his gaze, eyes glinting dangerously with savage hate. The sentiment was quickly hidden under a mask of indifference.

 

“So, this is the Ring of Fire? Very well, let’s get started!” Arthur said, with false enthusiasm, suddenly anxious to get it over with.

 

Mordred scoffed. “Gaius, would you be so kind as to escort my consort to the viewing box?” He said, turning to Merlin and grabbing his hand to bestow a gentle kiss on its back. “Only the best for you, my dear. Carry my regards to your father.”

 

With those devastating words and a superior glare sent Arthur’s way, Mordred handed Merlin to the approaching Gaius.

 

Arthur tried to swallow over the stone that seemed to be lodged in his throat.

 

Consort.

 

Merlin, the beautiful man, let Mordred manhandle him without protest (that was not like his Merlin). 

 

Consort.

 

Merlin received the kiss on his hand without a blink, and pressed it to Gaius’ arm when bid by the King (why was Mordred touching him so much?).

 

 _Consort_.

 

The lovely prince swam away with the advisor. When they were about to cross the threshold of a second set of doors at the other side of the room, Merlin paused momentarily and looked over his shoulder.

 

He was frowning, and he appeared troubled. Merlin’s eyes shone with a myriad of emotions, and if Arthur could he would let himself drown in them.

 

But he could not, and the moment passed. The pair left the chambers, and with them all the metaphorical fresh air in the room.

 

Merlin had been trying to tell him something but Arthur cared not. There was a hole in his chest, a painful tug on his gut, and a rising anger stirring in his heart.

 

He felt helpless and stupid and inexplicably despondent. 

 

Arthur knew that Merlin owed him no explanations whatsoever (why would he? They were nothing more than acquaintances and he was Mordred’s… _he_ _was_ _Mordred’s_ ), but he was incapable of feeling anything but betrayed.

 

“You should do yourself a favor, Arthur, and forfeit this challenge. If you just leave and never come back, you would do so with your life, unopposed and free.” Mordred’s voice, taunting yet reasonable, brought Arthur back.

 

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart.

 

That was right. Arthur had come here to accomplish something far more important than ~~_romance_ ~~ friendship. The surface world was in danger.

 

Worse than that, it had been Merlin himself that sought to stop the whole situation, to his huge personal detriment. If him and Mordred were together then Merlin stood to suffer much, yet the prince remained steadfast in his self-appointed duty to save his and Arthur’s people.

 

And Arthur would be damned if he let Merlin do all the work on his own.

 

“You know I won’t do that.” Arthur answered, voice hoarse from his recent emotional roller coaster. 

 

Mordred smirked. “Know that there is a war coming, Arthur. The surface _will_ suffer the wrath of the seas. For that, I give you my word.”

 

The deep seated anger born from his dislike of Mordred’s attitude and actions (and the supposed _affection_ Merlin held for _him_ ) fueled his response. “As long as you remain as you are, the humans are in danger. I can't stand by and watch you destroy the world. I won’t. Too much is at stake.”

 

Mordred watched him, tilting his head in thought but remaining silent.

 

Arthur pressed on, swimming closer to his opponent. “When I first heard of your existence, I wanted to rush over to meet you. A little brother, who must have suffered as I did when I found out about mom’s death. However…”

 

Face to face, two feet apart, the siblings eyed each other contemptuously.

 

“If I had known you would be such an **ass** , I wouldn't have bothered.”

 

The words echoed in the following silence of the chamber.

 

“You were the reason my _mother_ died. And I hated you for it.”

 

Mordred’s response came as a painful blow to Arthur. While trying to recover his composure, the King calmly adjusted his arm bracers and took hold of his trident.

 

“Very well. Let us begin.” Mordred said, apparently done with conversation, and swam towards the ceiling where there was a closed overhead hatch.

 

Arthur blinked, gritting his teeth before following him. They floated for a handful of seconds there when, at a signal from Mordred towards nowhere in particular, the hatch started opening slowly.

 

The thunderous noise from a huge crowd reverberated from outside, and suddenly Arthur was not too sure about what he had gotten himself into.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - Colosseum Royal Viewing Box**

 

Merlin stood poised and graceful in his place at the front of the viewing box. No one that did not know him intimately would be able to tell that he was anything but calm.

 

In reality, Merlin was about to burst at the seams.

 

His mind would not stop replaying the scene in the under chamber from minutes ago. Mordred’s damned words and Arthur’s stricken expression had threatened his composure just as much then as they were now.

 

Looking back at the eldest prince moments before exiting, Merlin had tried to convey… something. He did not know what. That it sounded worse than it really was? That he could explain? That he was sorry?

 

None of it made sense. He owed Arthur nothing, and yet…

 

Merlin bit his lip to stop the frustrated yell at the back of his throat from escaping.

 

Ridiculous man, with his ridiculous body and his ridiculous ~~ly beautiful~~ eyes that were causing Merlin to _feel_ _things_.

 

This was all Arthur’s fault.

 

A sparkle from his wrist caught his attention, and Merlin studied the golden cuff that Mordred had gifted him. It was a simple pretty thing, with jewels surrounding an embedded pearl which had been Ygraine’s favorite gem. It made sense that it used to belong to her.

 

Merlin sighed. He had tried to convince Mordred to stop the fight after his friend had presented him with the cuff. As he was fond of doing lately, Mordred had been patronizing in his explanations and subtle refusal. When Merlin mentioned Ygraine, Mordred had gotten a strange glint in his eyes, gone in a flash, before he proceeded to remind the young prince of the Queen’s crimes.

 

“She committed treason, Merlin,” Mordred had said, glaring. “Do not follow in her footsteps.”

 

That had sounded almost like a warning for more than speaking out of turn. Maybe Mordred suspected something?

 

“Merlin!” a familiar voice called from behind. 

 

Merlin turned to see his father, King Balinor, enter the room with a tired but no less affectionate smile. His two accompanying xebellian guards immediately bowed to their prince, and posted themselves at the doors.

 

Balinor brought his son into his arms, giving him a warm hug. Merlin returned it, feeling safe and very happy to see a member of his family. If only he felt comfortable enough to share his inner turmoil.

 

“Father,” came his belated greeting, which caused Balinor to chuckle. 

 

His father’s beard was as full and thick as ever, if showing slightly more gray hairs than before. He was wearing his armor, sans cape and crown, but no one would mistake the man for anything less than a king.

 

“How have you been, my son? Hunith has been beside herself with how long it has been since your last visit.”

 

Merlin sighed, about to brush a hand through his hair before he remembered the adornments that held it in place.

 

“I apologize, truly. But with recent events, Atlantis has been keeping me busy with its affairs.” The prince smiled. “I am well, father. I imagine I will have to remain here a while longer, but I promise to visit at the earliest opportunity. Send my regards to mother when you head back.”

 

Balinor eyed him skeptically with a raised eyebrow, but let it go. Merlin relaxed.

 

“Very well. I will find myself occupied with Mordred in the coming weeks, but as soon as I return to Xebel, I will deliver your message.”

 

Merlin jolted slightly, suddenly aware of their location and the reason why the King of Xebel was in attendance within the borders of Atlantis.

 

“Your sisters are in good health, as well. Morgause has stepped beautifully into her position as ruler in my absence and Morgana,-” Here Balinor paused to rummage inside a secret compartment in his armored chest piece. He took out a very small velvet bag and handed it over to Merlin. “- she said to not be obtuse and to show that to your new friend when the time is right.”

 

Merlin blinked, bewildered. New friend? Did she mean Arthur?

 

Balinor’s deep laugh made him look up from his inspection of the bag. He would not open it yet.

 

“I see from your face that your sister decided to be more vague than usual. But, as you and I know perfectly, there is always a reason for her words and the way they are delivered. Worry not, Merlin.”

 

His father’s reminder was unnecessary, but Merlin nodded nonetheless. 

 

Morgana loved to be playfully mystifying while Morgause preferred to be intimidatingly straightforward. Merlin could swear he was the only one of the siblings with the ability to behave like a normal person.

 

He put the bag away, smiling absentmindedly. “Morgana will be happy to know she has managed to confuse me for the thousandth time. And perhaps it is time you considered ascending Morgause, father. Poseidon knows she’ll take your Seat by force otherwise.”

 

Balinor waved a hand in acknowledgement, aware of the truth of Merlin’s words but probably holding out for one reason or another. Never let it be said that the Xebel royals did things the easy way.

 

“With the pleasantries out of the way, would you mind telling me why Mordred has invoked a public challenge at the onset of his war campaign?”

 

Merlin turned around, hiding a grimace at the mention of the war, and headed closer to the large window. Outside, the crowd was going wild with the entrance of the participants. Mordred was arrogantly showing off, while Arthur remained on the ground, rigid and clearly uneasy.

 

Merlin’s heart gave a twinge.

 

Balinor’s quiet gasp at seeing Mordred as a contender meant he had been invited but not informed of anything pertaining Arthur. This may have been a way for Mordred to save face if he were to lose, but Merlin doubted it was as simple as that.

 

Mordred was nothing if not cunning.

 

“King Mordred’s half-brother has come to Atlantis. He challenged him to a combat of Kings. Mordred decided to fulfill it right away.”

 

“Is that so? How convenient.”

 

Merlin frowned and decided to go for it. “Father, why did you accept Mordred’s bid for Xebel’s navy in his alliance? Gaius told me about the attack. Mordred has been plotting this for years, even you know that. So, a surface vessel shooting at one of our most sacred locations the day a Kings’ meeting takes place… _that_ is what I would call convenient.”

 

His impassioned speech did not surprise Balinor. Rather, the King merely continued watching out the window serenely.

 

Merlin gulped, realization coursing through his veins. “Oh! You are _not_ so gullible to fall for such a ruse, therefore... You actually agree with Mordred? About the surface?”

 

Balinor sent him an unimpressed look. “You agree as well. I see it in your eyes every time Mordred mentions it. You know how humans have both mistreated and taken for granted the might of the sea.”

 

“I can agree with the cause without endorsing the solution. Father! I cannot abide violence against any race, regardless of reasons, but especially so when it would put our own at risk!”

 

Balinor shook his head, disappointment radiating from his every move. “Perhaps, this is why you are not King.”

 

Merlin’s lips thinned with the effort of holding back his first response to that. “Perhaps, this is why Morgause should be Queen right now.” His second response was not particularly better.

 

Silence permeated the room. 

 

The stare off between father and son would have continued if the loud whoop from the crowd outside had not called for their attention.

 

Merlin had been watching the fight in his periphery, ever aware of Arthur whenever he was present, no matter the distance. The eldest prince had started well enough. He was currently holding his own, but Mordred had stopped playing, and the fight had gotten dangerous.

 

The crowd was loving it.

 

“Greetings, King Balinor. Welcome to Atlantis,” Gaius’ deep voice called from behind.

 

Merlin’s muscles locked in an effort to not jump. He had been on edge and his friend’s sudden appearance had shocked him. Merlin felt an eyebrow twitch in irritation.

 

How long had Gaius been there? And how could Merlin not have felt him? He should not have been that distracted.

 

Another holler from the crowd interrupted his thoughts.

 

His heart climbed up his throat. Arthur and Mordred… they were going to kill each other!

 

His irises glowed golden. His magic had had enough, and so had Merlin. He turned abruptly, heading towards the doors.

 

“Merlin!” Exclaimed Balinor, a warning undertone in his voice. Merlin ignored him.

 

He did not bother to look behind. Gaius may not know what his intentions were, but he would not stop him. And Balinor would have to deal with it. Merlin was prepared to face the consequences.

 

The prince shed his scarf, wrapping it in one hand, and discarded his coat, sure that a servant would pick it off from wherever. It did not matter.

 

He started to unbutton his top, uncaring but still glad that with everyone entertained with the fight there was no one in the hallways. Merlin took a sharp turn and entered the changing room he had prepared beforehand. His armor glinted in the low lighting.

 

It was time to save a dollophead.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - “Ring of Fire” Colosseum, Arena**

 

It was a Colosseum, with the lower half enclosed by molten lava flowing downwards to the sea floor (so was this inside a volcano? How confusing), and the upper half made into numerous seats for an audience.

 

It was packed.

 

The multitude had been chanting Mordred’s title, ecstatic at his appearance and speech. Especially the bloodshed part, _that_ really got them going. Arthur would remember the ‘so the Gods make known their will’ line, just in case he needed to convince anyone once he kicked his brother’s ass.

 

Unsurprisingly, his brother had not so subtly made digs at his character. Arthur would have rolled his eyes at the immature behavior if he had not been busy feeling very self-conscious at the booing that the people was now giving _him_.

 

Talk about a tough crowd.

 

There was even a hologram with both their pictures shining above a large window paneled viewing box at what he guessed was the front of the stadium.

 

And was that a list of their accomplishments? Well, Mordred’s at least. All his said was… **wait** , Arthur was no drunk! He only did that occasionally during his travels… How would they even know that?!

 

Finished with his people pleasing performance, Mordred floated down to Arthur’s level and faced him. It seemed the time for backing out was done and their battle was about to start.

 

“Our mother’s quindent is a beautiful weapon, I commend your caring of it. Although one wonders how it is you came to have it,” Mordred said, leadingly, yet Arthur felt that an answer was not expected.

 

That comment was worrying nonetheless.

 

Arthur remained silent, jaw clenched and blank faced, but Mordred still nodded, apparently satisfied by the lack of a response.

 

“No matter. My father’s trident will cleave through it without issue, flawed as it is.” Mordred shrugged, placing the helmet he had been carrying under his arm on his head. Arthur copied him. “Just like its wielders.”

 

Arthur understood that Mordred was only trying to get a rise out of him. Unfortunately, it was working. Insulting him was one thing, but his mother?

 

Well, Arthur had never been good at keeping a level head when that happened. It was time to teach his little brother a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 9: The Belly of The Beast
> 
> The challenge for the throne is lost and escaped, alongside a furious and bewitching little fish.


	9. The Belly of The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The challenge for the throne is lost and escaped, alongside a furious and bewitching little fish.

~~~*~~~

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - “Ring of Fire” Arena**

 

Alright, the promised lesson wasn't going so well for Arthur.

 

The platinum glimmering trident rushed down, and Arthur raised his quindent to meet it. Instead of parrying, however, he locked the necks of the weapons together and forced Mordred to close in.

 

Pushing the quindent the side, Arthur made an opening and headbutted Mordred hard. While he was disoriented, Arthur raised both legs and kicked him away, hurling him closer to a nearby lava stream cascading to the sea floor.

 

Giving himself some room to breath, Arthur panted and floated in place, unwilling to retreat but reluctant to get closer. His brother was definitely no pushover.

 

Mordred got his bearings quickly, rotated in place and headed straight for Arthur. Their weapons met again, sparking from the strength behind the wielders, and the deadly dance resumed.

 

Neither of them had drawn blood yet, but both had gotten dangerously close to the hot molten rocks surrounding the walls and floor of the Colosseum, semi-burning the skin visible in the breaks of their armors. 

 

Usually, only atlantean energy weapons could cause them searing damage of that extent, that quickly. There must be something about this lava, that behaved entirely different to what nature dictated.

 

Ring of Fire indeed.

 

Parrying a well aimed thrust and evading the follow up strike with the trident’s end, Arthur used the quindent’s shaft to block a low kick and got a powered punch to his solar plexus for the effort. Mordred seemed tireless, or at least very determined to run him through.

 

Their weapons rang every time they met, vibrating fiercely.

 

A sudden shove from Mordred unbalanced Arthur and the trident plunged at the opportunity. Arthur twisted, letting it drive through the space under his arm, holding it in place and using the momentum to lock his feet on Mordred’s neck and roll backwards, sweeping him down.

 

Unable to tear the weapon off his brother’s hand, Arthur let go to avoid being taken down too. Mordred halted his descent skillfully, and threw his whole body towards Arthur, propelling them both to a nearby decoration statue.

 

Arthur hit the rock with his back, feeling the impact everywhere. Pushing through the pain, he rammed his knee upwards to Mordred’s gut, managing to knock the breath out of his brother. Arthur gathered himself, locked their weapons again and dove them both down.

 

They spiraled. Mordred gained the upper hand, pressing his trident’s shaft to Arthur’s throat and cutting off his breathing. They kept falling closer to the scorching bottom judging by the temperature increasing to a sweltering degree.

 

Managing to pivot in place and free their weapons, Arthur stabbed the quindent on the nearest wall and slowed their descent. When Mordred tried to jab the trident up through his neck, Arthur drove both his legs down, catching his brother off guard and sending him closer to the lava.

 

Arthur propelled himself away. Hearing a yell from behind, he turned to find Mordred heading towards him. 

 

He could not catch a break!

 

Arthur yelled back, lunging. They bounced hard off of each other, causing a great ripple to expand from the place they met, which swept over the reveling crowd.

 

Their onslaught continued. Neither willing to give an inch, they kept rebuffing each other’s strikes, bumping against the rocky barriers and bouncing off the obstacles around.

 

Tired from the non-stop jolting and prodding, Arthur pressed Mordred to the nearest surface in an effort to ground their fighting.

 

Mordred elbowed him, snapping Arthur’s head back, and knocked him down with a whip-crack rotation of his trident. Arthur ate dirt.

 

A hard kick caused his ribs to throb, and Arthur hastily rose to his knees, watching as Mordred raised his trident overhead and drove it down.

 

Arthur held the quindent above his head, horizontally, receiving the strike and feeling its power all the way to his bones.

 

The resonating clang from the weapons clashing increased, as Mordred attacked continuously and relentlessly, until Arthur could swear his chafed palms were bleeding.

 

Then, with Mordred snarling, one last strike impacted. Its sound was muted by the fact that, instead of bouncing from the shaft, the trident had managed to force through the quindent cleanly.

 

Arthur’s world stopped for a second. In his arms laid his - and his mother’s - weapon in two halves. The metal was blistering where the trident had broken through.

 

His one memento of Ygraine, the only gift he had ever been given from her, was unequivocally broken.

 

The noise from the crowd rushed in, and Arthur raised his head to watch as Mordred, triumphant, was howling his victory.

 

When Mordred turned around to face him, Arthur remained frozen in disbelief.

 

“I am the One True King!” his brother announced boastfully before raising his glimmering trident to finish off his opponent.

 

Arthur watched it happen as an image of impish features, stormy blue eyes and coral pink lips flashed in his mind.

 

He had lost and now others would suffer for his failures.

 

Mordred’s savage grin showed his relish at having Arthur in this position. The trident drove down without hesitation…

 

A thunderous bang from a distance silenced the audience a second before a twisting tornado appeared out of nowhere, devouring Mordred and dragging him away.

 

With his heart in his throat, Arthur scrambled forward on his knees, looking over the side of the stone slab they had been fighting on. He watched as the tornado that had started small and narrow, glowed before broadening, pulling Mordred to the center of the arena where the hatch from the underground chambers had been.

 

It opened into a whirlpool, expanding right there in the middle of the ocean and creating an air pocket that pushed Mordred to the ground harshly by way of gravity. He hit his side hard, momentarily choking at the abrupt change to dry air and turning weakly to vomit water.

 

The thunderous bang repeated when the glow which had held the whirlpool in place cut off, and the weight of the ocean was suddenly bearing down unopposed.

 

Arthur gulped, seeing Mordred being swallowed by the water, which raised a large cloud of dirt that obscured his brother from view. 

 

That must have been painful.

 

The glare from a ship’s headlight shone in Arthur’s face, blinding him. It took a second to register the fact that it was parked nearby, main door opened, with a golden eyed Merlin, visibly furious and flushed red with exertion, sitting inside.

 

“What are you waiting for, you prat?!” the prince barked, breaking Arthur off his stupor. 

 

Arthur was hurting everywhere, exhausted from the long fight and very confused, but at that moment he could have kissed Merlin breathless, damn the consequences.

 

He did not, of course. If he was being honest, Merlin also scared him more at that moment than everyone he had ever fought against in his entire life.

 

The idle thought that he may be a little infatuated crossed his mind.

 

Arthur hastily got on the ship, and Merlin closed the doors, revving the engine and accelerating off.

 

The huge cloud of debris settled behind them, the distraction finished. Everyone was probably watching them get away, now.

 

“What-?” Arthur started, winded, before being cut off by an irritated Merlin.

 

“You simpleton! Idiot prat of a prince that could not leave very well alone! Why would you challenge your brother to a battle you could not even win?!” Merlin ranted, enraged, while driving them to a very populated area.

 

Arthur was back to feeling very afraid.

 

“I thought I could win, thank you very much! I tried-”

 

“ _Shut_ it! I can _not_ believe you, I mean, argh!” His anger caused Merlin to make his turns sharper than necessary, leaving a chorus of indignant honks on the way.

 

“If you just let me-”

 

“You are SUCH a CLOTPOLE!”

 

“...what the hell is a clotpole?”

 

“I said shut up!”

 

“Merlin!”

 

“What?!”

 

“TRUCK!”

 

At Arthur’s warning, Merlin swerved their ship around the giant cargo ship, instinctively knowing what Arthur meant despite the incorrect designation.

 

His heart thundering, Arthur was inanely wishing to be back in the arena where he was _safer_.

 

“Stop distracting me!” complained the prince. Arthur sent him a disbelieving look.

 

“You are the one ranting all over about a fight that, I will remind you kindly, your _husband_ was more than happy to accept. It was not all my fault!”

 

Merlin growled (which sent delicious tingles down his spine, damn it!) and pulled at the wheel, changing the course and heading upwards, climbing to the top of the buildings where traffic was less busy and easier to maneuver.

 

Merlin turned to him, glaring with his slightly shaded golden eyes which were still, slowly, turning back to stormy blue.

 

Arthur hid a shudder. Those golden irises seemed to always cause an inappropriate reaction in him.

 

“You challenged for the throne, against our express advice. He was looking for an excuse to kill you. I had to save your sorry behind if we are to have even a chance at stopping this whole war.” Merlin’s pleasant tenor gained a dangerous undertone the more he spoke. Then he bared his teeth before snarling, “And Mordred is **not my husband**!”

 

Arthur felt his breath whoosh out. He was glad that Merlin had turned back to watch the -road?- way, because he knew a dopey smile had settled on his lips.

 

He argued back, however. “He called you his consort!”

 

“Because he is a possessive brat!” snapped Merlin, back to irritated. “We are only engaged,” he finished, defensively.

 

Arthur’s strange good mood deflated. Still, he supposed engaged was better than married. Less permanent…

 

He shook his head to get rid of that particular train of thought.

 

Sensing that Merlin was calming down, he was about to speak when a burst of light shot by their side, coming from behind them. A group of patrol vessels were giving chase.

 

They started firing beams of energy at them. Their intention to shoot them off course clear.

 

Merlin swerved again, hard, aiming downwards into the mass of traffic they had previously left behind. The guards would be hard pressed to attack in the middle of a populated area.

 

“We have company,” said Arthur, belated, eyeing Merlin’s worried frown.

 

“I know,” the prince answered, distracted with studying the readings on the ship’s console screen without prying his hands off the wheel. Arthur resisted the urge to ask if he could help.

 

“So, what’s the plan?”

 

Merlin’s sharp glare almost made him bite his tongue. “The _plan_ was to get Atlan’s trident, _then_ challenge Mordred. Now look where we are!”

 

Arthur huffed, tired of being not so subtly reprimanded. “I thought we could skip the whole impossible quest thing. I tried! I’m _so_ rry your man couldn’t leave very well alone, _Mer_ lin”.

 

Alright, that was not very nice. It also grated on Arthur’s nerves to remember Mordred’s position on Merlin’s life.

 

Suddenly, a break in the mass of vehicles occurred. The space grew around Merlin’s ship as all other civilians started veering to the sides. They were being redirected.

 

A laser clipped their right wing, not damaging anything but warning them that their pursuers were closing in. More energy beams shot over, under and to the sides, as the ship’s screen glowed red in warning and Merlin took aggressive evading maneuvers.

 

Arthur felt like they were on a roller coaster.

 

The rolling, twirling and yanking movements continuously threw Arthur’s bulk against the window. He was glad he had not eaten anything recently, otherwise his stomach would be protesting the treatment.

 

Straight ahead was a massive circular shaped power array that illuminated a great chunk of the city. Merlin crossed over it, and Arthur spied in the distance the boundary walls that surrounded the capital.

 

Merlin was trying to leave the city through them, but hadn’t he said something about hydro canons protecting it from any unauthorized coming and going?

 

A sudden jolt made them gasp. Something had crashed against them. Merlin fought the drag, trying to regain balance after that sharp push while maintaining high speeds.

 

When they stabilized, Arthur and Merlin looked to the side, seeing another vessel keeping up with them.

 

Inside, Mordred turned to watch them too, frowning heavily and glaring dangerously.

 

Merlin clicked his tongue, turning back to watch the road and trying to lose their newest hunter.

 

“Arthur, listen to me,” he said, urgently. The canons were charging in the distance. “Mordred is going to shoot at us, and he is going to hit us.”

 

“What?” Arthur asked, frowning.

 

Merlin made an aggravated sound. “I am the better driver, but he is the best shooter. Arthur, we are going to get hit!”

 

The canons started firing, and Merlin moved seamlessly between the colorful and deadly rays. Behind them, several of the pursuing vessels veered off, done with the chase, except for the one he knew had Mordred.

 

His brother was driving skillfully as well, but he had fallen back while Merlin never lost his speed. That did not make him any less dangerous.

 

Arthur took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and _reached_.

 

Somewhere, somehow, everything and anything.

 

Come on, come on… There!

 

Blue eyes snapped open.

 

“Merlin, head that way,” Arthur said, pointing in a very specific direction. Merlin barely hesitated before redirecting their ship.

 

Closer and closer they got to the canons, the ledge and the world beyond. They crossed over, officially out of the city, when a harsh jolt caused them to twist in place. Their vessel fell off the canyon wall and towards the lava (Why is it always lava?!) below.

 

Mordred had shot their engine down. They plummeted.

 

The ship’s systems were blaring warnings, disorienting rather than helpful. Merlin was looking frantically for the emergency eject lever.

 

Arthur grabbed one of the prince’s flailing hands and squeezed.

 

The doors of the ship popped open and they exited, just in time to see the vehicle crash and burn, melting in the scorching heat of the lava.

 

Not wasting time observing the show, Arthur propelled away, bringing Merlin with him by way of the hand he kept hold of.

 

The harmonious singing of a group of whales traveling nearby grew louder the closer they got. Merlin let him lead, so Arthur had no problem taking them towards one of the animals in the pod.

 

Stretching his arm out, he reached again for that glimmer of recognition he had felt during the chase. The whale answered positively to his silent question and opened its great mouth.

 

Merlin startled but Arthur squeezed his hand in reassurance. They swam inside and the whale closed its mouth.

 

Silence permeated between them before a soft blue glow emanating from Merlin’s free hand gave enough light to study the inside of their new ride.

 

Arthur looked around, shrugged and settled to wait. This was not the craziest thing he had done, and it was perhaps a good experience if he ever needed to do it again in the future.

 

“Why-How-What?” Unable to stand it any longer, Merlin sputtered while watching their surroundings with a wide eyed look and blinking at Arthur bewildered.

 

It was adorable.

 

The whale exhaled a big breath which pressed Arthur and Merlin back to its gums before it stopped. It grumbled and the insides vibrated slightly.

 

“She says the coast is clear, and the other two-leg fish things like us were left behind in the red-hot sea.” Arthur translated.

 

Merlin turned to him, sending him a look. Arthur blinked with a ‘what?’ clear on his face.

 

“How can you know that?”

 

Arthur shrugged again. “I can hear her, in my head. All of them, actually. They can make simple conversation, sometimes it’s funny to know what they think of us.”

 

Merlin frowned, fidgeting in place before he imitated Arthur and leaned back.

 

“But how?”

 

“I don’t know. I’ve always been able to talk to them.” Arthur hesitated. “Is that… weird?”

 

Merlin looked thoughtful. “I have personally never heard of such an ability. Have you asked Gaius?”

 

Arthur grinned sheepishly. He would have rubbed the back of his head if he had not felt Merlin’s hand still clasped securely in his grip. He opted to not bring attention to that, seeing that Merlin had made no motion to free his hand.

 

“To be honest, you are the only person aside from my father that knows I can do that.”

 

Merlin’s eyes glittered with an unknown emotion.  He opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself.

 

Arthur then noticed something and used his free hand to reach over and brush it gently through Merlin’s black locks. Said man went rigid.

 

Soft and silky, the blond mused.

 

When Arthur’s closed hand retreated, he held it in front of Merlin’s nose and watched him go cross eyed to keep it in view. He opened his palm and let Merlin see the shining rainbow pearls barrette held inside.

 

Merlin gasped. His free hand went to his other temple and found the mate to the barrette in Arthur’s hand.

 

“I guess I changed rather quickly, that I forgot about these,” he mumbled, taking the ornament off and reaching for the one that Arthur was still holding. About to twist to reach for the pouch at his waist, Merlin paused and looked to his hand that was still trapped by Arthur’s. He blinked, and stared at the blond who flushed lightly and reluctantly let go.

 

Arthur cleared his throat while Merlin put away his things and took out the message bearer to check it had not received any damage.

 

Arthur had completely forgotten about the thing.

 

“So, you ‘changed rather quickly’? I just realized that you are garbed in your armor again. What happened to the fancy suit?”

 

Merlin answered distractedly, while still evaluating the cylinder. “When I saw you struggling, I knew I had to do something. I practically undressed in the hallway outside the viewing room, donned my armor and rushed to my ship.”

 

Arthur choked. He imagined Merlin stripping off the elegant clothes carelessly and showing more skin than… well, frankly, than Arthur would be able to take at the moment. He shook his head violently.

 

“And where-” Arthur squeaked, stopped, cleared his throat and tried again. “Where are we going now?”

 

Merlin put the cylinder back in the pouch, and faced Arthur. “The Deserter Kingdom, to find something that will allow us to know the message in this artifact.”

 

“And where is that…?” Arthur asked.

 

Merlin frowned, biting his lip while contemplating. One of his fingers started gently rubbing the hollow of his throat in a rather hypnotic way.

 

Arthur absently thought that it was getting hotter inside the whale. He sort of wanted to tug at his collar and release the pressure on his throat.

 

He also could not tear his eyes away from the view of Merlin’s neck.

 

“Oh, yes! Your humans call it the Sahara! It’s a sea of endless sand that-”

 

“Yes, I know about the Sahara desert.”

 

“Good, then we have our heading!” That bright smile could fell any beast.

 

Arthur chuckled at Merlin’s enthusiasm and nodded. “Alright, I will let our big friend here know. Hopefully it is not too out of the way for them.”

 

After directing their ride in the correct direction, Arthur found himself awkwardly staring at his hands. He did not want a repeat of the neck staring.

 

“Do you think they will come after us?” He asked. Conversation was a better way to pass the time.

 

“Probably not. They may think we died in the wreckage. And no one else but Gaius knows of our destination. We should be safe to search for the trident without interruptions.”

 

Arthur sighed heavily, once again reminded of the whole situation and how they got there.

 

“I suppose it was a timely save I performed, no?” He joked, gesturing at their surroundings with a hand while massaging his neck with the other.

 

Merlin bristled in response. “ _You_ performed? I saved your life first! When it should _not_ have needed saving in the first place!”

 

Arthur blinked, watching as Merlin got himself started on another rant. Truly, he did not mind - not that he had a choice currently - since Merlin was very attractive when he was mad, in a firecracker kind of way.

 

Arthur settled back to enjoy the view. It was going to be a long trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week, on Chapter 10: In The Name of Duty
> 
> Chased out of Atlantis, the well-matched pair starts their impossible quest with a colorful group of guards in pursuit.


	10. In The Name Of Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chased out of Atlantis, the well-matched pair starts their impossible quest with a colorful group of guards in pursuit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following OC was created for the purpose of aiding the storyline. I liked him, I hope you do too.
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos. You give me life! Enjoy~

^~^~^~^

 

**Kingdom of Atlantis - “Ring of Fire” Audience**

 

The fight had been very close, at an impasse most of the time. Arthur had performed admirably, much more than Leon had thought possible after having seen Mordred fight countless times before and emerge victorious.

 

Conversely, that was probably the reason why Leon found himself at the edge of his seat with every reverberating strike.

 

Gawain would never let him live it down.

 

Since none of them had been pulled into the roster to guard the Colosseum, and they were also off on that particular day from regular city guard duties, Leon’s sort of team had gathered to offer ‘moral support’.

 

Leon had rolled his eyes in response, sure that they only wanted to meet the man that had secured his loyalty all those years ago.

 

They were not really his team. They were merely a group of lower guards, mid level soldiers and him, an elite knight, that had met during their careers as part of the atlantean navy and hit it off. Since Leon was the highest ranked, it fell to him to both lead and keep control of the colorful personalities that made up their small adopted family. Of course, most days, he was more like a glorified babysitter.

 

The eldest knight shuffled in his place, standing behind the last, highest row of seats in that section, all the way across the royal viewing box. Throughout the fight, Leon had gotten so anxious that Elyan had banned him from sitting beside them and displaced him to stand behind, out of view.

 

The crowd roared at a particularly vicious lunge from the King. 

 

Leon dug his nails into his palms, so done with the audience’s bias against Arthur. It was not as if the public liked Mordred any better normally, but he supposed that, since Arthur was technically an outsider, the people would rather cheer for one of their own.

 

Then, there was a change in the rhythm of the fight and Mordred pressed his advantage. Arthur held him back for a long time but, like any other weapon pitted against the King’s trident before, the quindent eventually broke.

 

Leon inhaled sharply.

 

That had been the Queen’s weapon, and a prized possession of Arthur’s for that very reason. Leon knew this would wound his prince deeper than any physical injury Mordred had managed to score.

 

His whole body vibrating with the conflicting need to save Arthur clashing with Gaius’ order to stay put, Leon just about said screw it when the raging tornado appeared out of nowhere and swallowed Mordred whole.

 

Thank _Poseidon_ , was his first thought.

 

His second was along the lines of hoping _that_ was the end of that particularly unpleasant man.

 

“What the fuck!” was Gawain’s rather tame response. The whole group had stood up, watching incredulous at the King being battered around by the magically made phenomenon.

 

“It’s Merlin,” murmured Percival, low enough so only they would hear. He was the one who knew the xebellian prince best, as he was often drafted to be one of his bodyguards when in residence.

 

“Are you sure?” asked Elyan, to which the quiet giant of a man nodded seriously.

 

Gawain whistled, but got suddenly cut off by Elyan hitting him over the head. Regardless, the sound was drowned by the crowd’s noisy excitement at the impressive stunt. It seemed none but them had deduced that this was not a part of the spectacle.

 

Also, none but them immediately noticed the ship taking off with Arthur, the whirlpool now done playing with Mordred.

 

Of _course_ Gaius had recruited someone else to his silent rebellion against Mordred. But Prince Emrys, the betrothed of the King? Leon would have been hard pressed to believe it, if he did not already know about the young man’s views regarding Mordred’s war (completely against according to Percy and Lance’s claims). 

 

And if he had not just seen Merlin help Arthur escape with his very own eyes.

 

Was he the person Arthur had been anxiously searching for back at the amphitheater when Mordred had accepted his challenge? If so, Leon had the dawning suspicion that his prince would be trying to take more than Mordred’s crown.

 

Arthur never did things half-way.

 

“That _was_ Merlin,” mused a worried Lance, fond as he was of that prince.

 

“Ok, so what do we do?” asked Gawain, practically vibrating with excitement. There was a pause before everyone turned to look at Leon questioningly.

 

Without thinking, Leon quickly swam to the very top of the Colosseum's structure, well above the crowd. He had no problem with the stationed perimeter guards once they identified him. His friends followed, also showing their credentials, and they all got as close as possible to the direction the ship had taken for a better view.

 

By virtue of the whole affair down on the arena, the surrounding area was deserted of anyone but them.

 

Leon’s communicator chirped and he stood to the side to receive the message, listening peripherally to the others’ low conversation.

 

“You all must admit, that is one _badass_ prince,” said Elyan, as they all watched the watercraft drive away at high speeds.

 

“That’s Merlin who’s steering. He could get hurt!” said Lance, still frowning in worry. 

 

Elyan rolled his eyes, silently mouthing ‘Precisely’. The xebellian prince was known for being both hard to best and dangerously daring when piloting ships.

 

“Have I mentioned how much I love Merlin?” asked Gawain, staring dreamily at the wild maneuvers the getaway vehicle was performing.

 

“Not recently, and never in front of Mordred,” answered Percy, sardonically. “He would have gutted you where you stood.”

 

“I can’t help it!” exclaimed Gawain, a very exaggerated - fake, of course - scandalous expression on his face. “Have you seen how delicious that man is?!”

 

“Be that as it may, he is still the King’s betrothed,” answered Elyan, grinning at his fellow guard. Gawain huffed and rolled his eyes in a mocking manner.

 

“It’s not like there’s anything really going on there,” Gawain retorted, crossing his arms and pouting in a way he usually called very manly. “If I were so inclined, I would have swept off with Merlin in a second.”

 

“Not that Merlin would have let you,” Percy interjected, chuckling under his breath.

 

“He would have ripped me a new one,” said Gawain, a grin growing large on his face, making it clear he would have enjoyed that very much.

 

Lance huffed, swatting the back of their manwhore friend’s head none too gently. “The King is the King, and you should respect him and his royal house, unofficial members included,” he lectured, very serious.

 

“And the noblest of us all has spoken,” stated Elyan, patting Lance’s shoulder and smiling at their friends’  antics. Said guard flushed, visibly fighting the urge to stick his tongue out in response.

 

Leon closed the message, deliberated on the contents for a moment, studied his friends and decided to trust the man that had introduced him to his prince.

 

“What are you standing around for gents!” he voiced, thundering from behind the gathered group. All of them straightened their postures and turned around to see Leon swimming swiftly towards them. “We have a pair of Princes to catch!”

 

“Are you serious right now? _We_ are going after them?” Asked Gawain, incredulous, pointing behind over his shoulder where the ship had disappeared, diving in between buildings.

 

“It is our duty as guards of the royal house,” answered Leon, gravely, pressing a switch on the side of the communicator fastened to his wrist.

 

The four lower tiered soldiers looked towards their own wrists, where their communicators pinged and lit up with their official orders. Elyan and Percy eyed each other with pursed lips while Gawain blanched and Lance swallowed back a gasp.

 

‘Bring back the half-breed dead or alive. Capture Prince Emrys. Deadly force authorized,’ the orders read.

 

Lance turned to the eldest knight who was busy requesting the ships for pursuit. “Leon, are you sure about this? Isn’t that man your…?” He stopped when Leon directed a piercing look at him.

 

“Our orders are clear,” stated Leon formally. He rigidly turned around to watch for the incoming cargo ship transporting their own watercrafts. 

 

He had requested additional equipment and armor, seeing as his friends had not anticipated needing any. Leon, on the other hand, was still clad in his Elite armor after the whole amphitheater debacle and staying with Arthur in the old armory.

 

The group stood watching their unofficial leader’s back in varying degrees of alarm when- 

 

“Besides, Gaius considers us to be the best fit for this mission. He expects much and we must not disappoint him,” he continued, sending them a look over his shoulder.

 

There was a pause while they each registered the words - and the hidden meaning - before they relaxed. Gawain even went as far as pumping his fist up in silent victory, no doubt relishing the idea of the upcoming adventure.

 

Leon ignored them, crossing his arms and settling for the wait. He knew that despite the numerous soldiers following after - _shooting_ at - Arthur right now, there was no way his prince would fall so easily. Gaius had taken the initiative and sent him, through the official channels, the mission to pursue them for an indeterminate amount of time.

 

Based on his glimpse of Arthur’s battle prowess - despite Mordred’s win - and knowing Merlin’s displayed capabilities barely touched the surface, the pair would be fine.

 

Nonetheless, Leon would make sure to catch up to them quickly and fulfill his duty to his sire. Come what may, he was not going to leave his prince alone ever again.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Somewhere off the Western Sahara Coast**

 

Merlin was fascinated.

 

It seemed that when Arthur spoke to - or was spoken to by - creatures of the depths, there was no gesture or signal needed to activate the translation or ‘mutual understanding’. Unlike a sea sorcerer’s eye color change, Arthur showed no visible indication of his magical skills.

 

Because that’s what it was. Magical.

 

Something unheard of by Merlin, who prided himself in his thorough knowledge of Atlantis’ beginnings and the history of its subsequent kingdoms, by way of his studies as a Prince of the Seas.

 

Unless it was a family legacy and thus secretly sealed as part of a royal lineage privilege.

 

And Arthur’s ancestry was the oldest and highest of all.

 

Merlin shook his head, bringing his focus back to his fellow prince who was still saying goodbye to the pod that had absconded with them and safely delivered to their destination.

 

Arthur’s amused chuckles caused Merlin to pout, faintly envious. Whales were majestic, honored beasts that carried ancient wisdom, and their words were to be wasted on the blond dollop-head?

 

It was unfair.

 

“What’s with the long face?” asked Arthur, looking back at Merlin curiously while waving at his departing new friends.

 

Merlin blinked, wondering at the strange human phrase, and opted to swim away towards the surface. Arthur followed, shrugging at his silence.

 

“You are familiar with the land around this surface territory?” Merlin asked his companion, getting somewhat more anxious the closer they got to shore.

 

He had explored some villages ashore where humans resided, but had never really ventured inland. Now, they were supposedly going to one of the driest, hottest places in the human world, far from the temperamental, cooling, soothing waters that made up his home. It was a daunting prospect.

 

“I traveled a great majority of it, yes. I know a place near the coast where we can get supplies and a ride over the desert, but I have no idea how to find what we’re looking for. The Sahara is a vast area with pretty much identical landscape everywhere you look.”

 

Arthur’s words alluded to his experience in the matter. His serious mien also showed worry at the situation. Merlin found it strangely mollifying to see him take it seriously.

 

Merlin reached into his trusty pouch and took out the handheld communicator that Gaius had given him a couple of days ago in the small audience chamber of the atlantean castle. He turned it on, watching as Arthur swam closer to spy on the device.

 

He fiddled with the controls, bringing out a map and coordinates, and handed it to the blond so he could see it.

 

“Gaius gave me this before I went to search for you in your hometown. It can guide us to the Deserter Kingdom’s capital and, hopefully, somewhere we can open the message bearer.”

 

Arthur studied it for a moment before giving the communicator back. “How does it work?”

 

Merlin put it away while answering, “It tracks atlantean technology which, despite it being ages after the Deserter’s fall, has evolved without changing certain key aspects. It also has loaded into it the best maps in our records to cross-reference our position across the world.”

 

Arthur blinked. “GPS included then. But won’t it get interference from human tech?”

 

Merlin shook his head. “It will not. Human technology is very different.”

 

They were on the edge of the coast already, their legs supporting their weight against the rocky bottom which became pebbles, then sand. The current was strong, but they barely felt it as they walked forward and broke the surface among the white foamy waves.

 

They took deep breaths, allowing their bodies to adjust to the change in their oxygen supply. Their steps grew surer the farther they walked, adapting their balance from buoyancy on the sea to the weight of gravity.

 

Seawater poured down their figures, droplets glinting brightly on their skin while the color of their hair darkened under the unforgiving sun.

 

At the beach, several humans stood gawking at them. Some flushed, sputtered or fell over; others observed up and down their bodies while covering the eyes of their nearby progeny. Males and females, old and young, they all stopped in the middle of their activities to stare at the seaborn couple rising from the depths of the sea.

 

Merlin tilted his head slightly, curious at the phenomenon. He knew that humanity as a whole did not know of the existence of Atlantis - or refused to acknowledge the evidence of it -, but he still found this particular group to be acting very strangely at their appearance. How peculiar.

 

Maybe they should have been more discreet?

 

Arthur huffed besides him, glaring at a few of the people around. He placed a hand at Merlin’s lower back and guided him inland. Merlin did not mind, preferring the distraction of his warm hand to the uncomfortable attention from the crowd.

 

“That was unusual,” Merlin murmured when they were away from the beach. There was vegetation framing the area near the coast, but it decreased the more they walked towards the marketplace inside the human city (village? It seemed rather small).

 

Arthur rubbed a hand down his face in exasperation. “ _Mer_ lin, I’m pretty sure more than half of that crowd was panting after _you_. It can’t be that unusual.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow, and took the ‘panting’ to mean something like observing or surveying. He frowned, looking down at his armor. “Do you think it was my attire? At least you are wearing visible human clothing underneath the armor. Maybe I should have thought of changing to blend in more. Your humans must have noticed I was not one of them.”

 

Arthur gaped for a second, snapped his mouth shut with a click of his teeth, and slapped a hand to his face. Merlin suspected he was still addled from the fight with Mordred.

 

“I can _not_ believe-!” Arthur stopped and took a deep breath. “No, Merlin, it was not your attire.” He paused in thought, eyeing up and down Merlin’s figure (which caused his ears to burn a little). “It was more the way you look _in_ it that attracted their attention,” he said dryly.

 

Merlin felt more confused, and Arthur’s amused grin indicated he knew it.

 

“Maybe the baby blues, flawless complexion and adorable ears helped, or is that just me?” Arthur wondered, tone teasing. 

 

Merlin crossed his arms in response, pouting and walking away. But that did not stop the pleased blush that appeared on his cheeks. He did not understand what that had to do with the people they left behind, but it was sort of nice to hear Arthur compliment him, even if he was joking.

 

They entered the marketplace, ignoring the double-takes the people around them kept making when they were seen. Arthur headed to the nearest stall that was selling clothing and started haggling.

 

At least, that was what Merlin thought he was doing, considering their surroundings. Arthur’s voice became a crooning murmur, with harsh vowels and guttural sounds interspersed in the conversation.

 

To Merlin, it was rather appealing to hear Arthur speak another language. It demonstrated a level of skill and intelligence that was very attractive. He would never tell him that, however; better not risk inflating his ego any more.

 

Seemingly done, Arthur exchanged payment for goods with the stall vendor. Merlin was content to let him be, perusing around until his attention was caught by the colorful neckerchiefs strung from a thread for displaying by another stall vendor. The person manning it noticed his fascination, and started making gestures towards them and calling Merlin forward.

 

Merlin shook his head in denial, smiling awkwardly at the person. He had been merely looking, since those were a particularly favorite garment of his. Although the red one was a lovely shade…

 

Arthur reached him, placing a careful hand on the small of his back. “I’m done Merlin. We can go. Hm? What’s this?”

 

Blushing, Merlin waved a hand in dismissal after seeing Arthur studying the same neckerchief. “Nothing! Let’s be on our way.”

 

Embarrassed, Merlin walked away leaving Arthur behind. He headed in the direction his fellow prince had mentioned on the walk to the marketplace, singularly focused on the road so his attention would not wander to the numerous merchandise being sold on the streets.

 

After a small delay, Arthur caught up with him and took the lead. They walked farther inland, leaving the beach and marketplace behind, until the surroundings flattened into plains with large sand mountains framing the horizon. There was a set of isolated buildings in the distance.

 

“It’s a small airfield,” Arthur said without prompting. “I know a guy there. I’ll request an airplane to take us into the heart of the desert. Will your GPS thing be able to pinpoint a coordinate from the skies?”

 

Merlin thought for a moment before nodding. “It should not be a problem. Are these airplanes your sky vessels?”

 

Arthur grinned. “That they are. Ever been in one?”

 

Merlin shook his head. This might get interesting.

 

They approached, passing an unguarded gate, and headed into one of the buildings. Arthur called out from the entrance and a human answered, walking to them. They greeted each other in the same language from before, and Arthur made a motion towards Merlin who simply nodded in acknowledgement.

 

“Well, this time you brought me a rather interesting cargo, Arthur. What have you been doing with such an exotic companion?” The gruff voice of the human said, now in the language Merlin understood perfectly as the (almost) universal one of mankind.

 

“Nothing that you can try, or I will not be responsible for the consequences.” Arthur answered, dryly.

 

“My name is Merlin. Nice to meet you,” said Merlin politely. The man grinned and offered a hand to shake.

 

“I’m Leigh, a very flabbergasted gentleman. How is it that Arthur of all people picked _you_ up? And where can I get one?” that last question was directed at Arthur, who rolled his eyes.

 

Merlin decided to ignore the queries, as they seemed to be said in jest without expecting an answer. He simply shrugged.

 

Arthur sobered and his friend straightened in response. “We need passage through the Sahara, Leigh.”

 

“Business or leisure? I would prefer you said _both_ , seeing that this man over here is the most enchanting individual I’ve ever seen you with.”

 

Leigh’s words were absentminded (and the contents caused a strangely happy feeling to flourish in his chest), as he had turned around and walked to a nearby desk filled with paperwork. He started ruffling through them.

 

“ _Business_ , Leigh. This isn’t a joking matter,” Arthur said, frowning.

 

“Ah, one of _those_ adventures. I suppose I have one available, and I can even pilot it myself!”

 

“That worries me. No drunken shenanigans allowed.”

 

“You are no fun anymore Arthur.”

 

“Your definition of fun is too wild for anyone’s tastes”

 

Leigh shrugged, grinning shamelessly. He motioned towards a backdoor while he worked on a computer terminal, supposedly arranging for their transport. Merlin followed the conversation somewhat, preferring to silently study Arthur and his mannerisms. He was very surprising at times.

 

“Come on Merlin, let’s get ready while this idiot does some actual work around here.” Arthur guided him to the backdoor, ignoring Leigh’s rather rude hand gesture.

 

Merlin blinked. This whole quest was proving less solemn than he thought and he could not decide whether it was a good or bad thing. 

 

But whatever it was, Merlin knew his duty. He had acted on it back in the Colosseum when he saved Arthur’s life. Remembering his blatant move against Mordred made his heart hurt fiercely, but doing nothing while his people were on the brink of war was not an option. 

 

Arthur was a good distraction from the grim thoughts of what his actions would mean for Merlin personally. He was also pleasantly surprising in his handling of their situation.

 

It would be alright. They would accomplish their goal. Both their worlds would be saved.

 

Merlin just hoped he could endure the consequences at the end of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Week, Chapter 11: Thirst for Knowledge and Self-Control
> 
> A long dead kingdom is the site of impressive architecture but Arthur is more enchanted by his irresistible companion.


	11. Thirst for Knowledge and Self-Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long dead kingdom is the site of impressive architecture but Arthur is more enchanted by his irresistible companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor movie canon fix: “Since before the Sahara was a desert” doesn’t fit in my storyline, considering that was millennia ago and my Atlantis’ history seems more recent. Regardless, don't think too much on it.
> 
> Enjoy~

~~~*~~~

 

**Coast of Western Sahara - Leigh’s Private Airport, Transportation and Tourism**

 

Arthur opened the backdoor to an office and lead Merlin inside. It was a little cramped with tools and boxes lying around, but he would just use the connecting bathroom and leave his companion to use this room.

 

Arthur placed the bags with his purchases on a desk while Merlin observed the surroundings. He took out the clothing he had acquired for the prince, handing it over, and grabbed his own.

 

Seeing Merlin’s confusion, Arthur elaborated. “I took your advice. It’s better to blend in. You can change into these here, while I take the bathroom.”

 

Merlin nodded, strangely pensive after meeting Leigh. Arthur hoped his crass friend had not offended the atlantean; he did not want to make Merlin uncomfortable.

 

On the way to the bathroom, Arthur locked the door to the office to ensure nobody would walk in on Merlin. Feeling settled after that, he closed his own door and proceeded to change swiftly. 

 

His own jeans were water clogged and the shirt ripped from the battle, so he had obtained new ones. Also, unable to help it, Arthur had indulged on a leather jacket and combat boots. They may not be practical for underwater conflict, but while on land they would prove comfortable.

 

Adjusting the jacket over his shoulders, he took a moment to check himself out in the mirror before opening the door and walking out.

 

Arthur’s breath hitched.

 

Flawless creamy skin greeted him. 

 

Merlin’s naked back faced him. His lithe figure and lean muscles were covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

 

Arthur’s wide eyes traveled down the length of the bared spine, reaching the very appealing back dimples and the delectable round bottom framed tightly by the blue jeans he had bought. They hung low on Merlin’s hips and hugged his long legs, which would wrap oh so perfectly around Arthur’s waist…

 

Merlin bent over to grab his shirt and Arthur felt dizzy (and very, _very_ thirsty). Holding the garment in his hands, the prince got ready to put it on when he noticed over his shoulder the blond standing frozen behind him.

 

Merlin blinked. “Arthur, are you ready?”

 

Arthur almost jumped out of his skin. He swallowed the stupid babbling he was about to sputter, and shook his head. Mechanically, he turned around to head back into the bathroom when-

 

He walked straight into the door frame.

 

“Sonuva-!” Arthur bit his lip to stop the expletives. He rubbed his smarting nose and finished walking to his destination blindly. The silence coming from Merlin’s general direction was ironically loud and judgmental.

 

Arthur wanted to drown himself in the toilet. Not only had he been caught ogling his - _delicious_ \- companion, but he had embarrassed himself further in a very stupid manner. No wonder Merlin thought him an idiot.

 

He gulped, trying to ignore the sparking heat that had gathered in his nether regions. Arthur would _not_ fumble around Merlin like a teenager with no self-control, and he would _not_ carry an erection born from just one look.

 

However lovely that view had been.

 

Arthur took a deep breath and exited the bathroom, after carefully spying around the door for a completely clothed sea prince.

 

Merlin stood by the office door, wearing a blue shirt and casual brown overcoat. Brown boots completed the ensemble. He looked towards Arthur when he emerged cautiously, and gestured at his readiness.

 

Arthur walked towards him and noted how strange it was to see Merlin’s neck completely uncovered, even if it was an attractive sight. That must have been why he had been interested in that one stall.

 

Reaching into the smallest bag left on the side, Arthur took out the same red neckerchief Merlin had been perusing and handed it over.

 

“Oh! Arthur, what-?”

 

Arthur shrugged, sheepish. “You looked like you really wanted it. It wasn’t that expensive.”

 

Merlin took the neckerchief, gathered it close and smiled bashfully. His eyes gained a glint, and an unknown emotion shone brightly in them.

 

Arthur could have cursed out loud at the pretty picture that Merlin made. 

 

He abstained, going for the door and unlocking it.

 

They walked back to Leigh, who was balancing on the back legs of a chair, murmuring to himself over a map he was holding aloft.

 

When he saw them, Leigh accidentally leaned too far and went tumbling back. The crash was loud, but neither prince reached out to help him.

 

“ _Motherf_ -!” Leigh cursed, nursing his head while twisting his body to get out of the fallen chair.

 

“Somehow, I think you deserved it,” stated Arthur, unapologetic. An amused Merlin nodded at his side, already wearing the neckerchief.

 

Arthur felt pleased. The small red fabric really complemented Merlin’s appearance. He looked _good_.

 

“Fuck you, you ass-”

 

“Charmed, really, but definitely not my type.” Arthur interjected, sarcasm dripping from every word. 

 

“-I’m over here, helping you out of the goodness of my heart. Least you could do is pull me up!” Leigh exclaimed, ignoring his previous comment, which made Arthur look to the ceiling in exasperation. 

 

Arthur offered his hand in response, to which Merlin chuckled quietly.

 

Leigh huffed and puffed, but got over it quickly and accepted the offer. Afterwards, he studied both his clients intently before nodding imperiously.

 

“I can see why you hid him away. Would have taken a bite if I could, otherwise.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes (strangling the growl that threatened to emerge from his chest. Merlin was no delicate damsel needing a neanderthal to defend his honor).

 

“Leigh, focus. We are on a tight deadline over here.”

 

Managing to convey his seriousness without violence involved to his old friend, Leigh clicked his tongue but acceded. He flattened the map over a recently cleared table and gestured at it.

 

“Where to?”

 

Arthur looked at Merlin, who stepped forward to study it. He extended a hand, his pointer finger traversing a specific line over the map.

 

Then, Merlin stared at Leigh. “This way. Can you take us through here?”

 

Leigh shrugged. “Absolutely, easy enough. Just fly over? No true destination?”

 

“Yes, I need to travel over that distance to pinpoint the exact location we need.” At Merlin’s words, Leigh raised an eyebrow at Arthur who merely blinked.

 

“Ok, let me get ready and we’ll be on our way.”

 

The preparation took an hour. Leigh always had a plane ready and on standby for any last minute trips. It didn’t take him long to finish organizing the paperwork necessary. He called one of his employees in to cover the remaining shift so he could personally fly them.

 

Arthur made a mental note to bring him a very nice gift next time he was around. Leigh was particularly skittish about accepting payment from him, so Arthur had had to get creative during their long friendship.

 

Strapped and ready, the cargo plane shook while crossing the runway but under Leigh’s experienced hands they took off without issues.

 

Merlin had been very tense, knuckles white on the seat handles from clenching them hard. He gradually relaxed during the trip, observing the world pass them by on the side window.

 

Arthur did not offer comfort, understanding that it would not be well received for a reason such as this. He took off his safety belt and stretched, walking to the captain’s cabin to make small talk with his old friend.

 

After a while, he wandered back towards Merlin and made note of the greenish tint of his cheeks. He looked nauseated, pensive and unhappy.

 

“Merlin, are you alright?” Arthur could not hide the concerned tone in his question.

 

“Yes, I am, worry not Arthur. I just…” Merlin answered, pausing to smile weakly at the blond. “...I have never been so high up. It seems to be messing with my senses. This used to be part of the Seas, so I can faintly feel echoes of the lost lives and the remaining magic. It was once a magnificent place.”

 

Arthur waited for more, but Merlin seemed reluctant to continue. He decided to press, cautiously. “And, is that all that’s bothering you?”

 

Merlin sighed heavily. “It is not. I was also thinking that, in the middle of all this dead ocean, I very much miss my home.”

 

Arthur frowned, and said gently. “I promise to take you there when all this war debacle is over. You said you had family no? They’ll be happy to see you.”

 

Merlin’s countenance darkened, and he bit his lip. He raised his head from the view of the window to Arthur, meeting his gaze with a small glare.

 

“I cannot ever return, Arthur. I blatantly betrayed Atlantis, its King, its people and its allies, by aiding you. It is the reason why Gaius and I worked from the shadows, waiting patiently for the right moment to strike.”

 

The heaviness of the conversation was nothing to the sad upturn of Merlin’s lips and his slumped shoulders. He looked defeated and Arthur found it intolerable.

 

“But the people of Atlantis _know_ you. You are a Prince! **And**  you are engaged to the King, to Mordred!” His arguments were meant more to break Merlin out of his melancholy than to proclaim in any way his acceptance of the betrothal, which still made his gut churn in suppressed anger.

 

“Being royalty means nothing in the face of such charges, Arthur. My father would not accept me back easily, and regardless it would be the prerogative of the King of Atlantis to assign my punishment. Your Queen mother was a perfect example, however much I wish otherwise.”

 

Arthur felt as if a stone was lodged in his throat. Merlin’s glare had grown more cutting, before softening in sympathy and clearing away. What remained was a young man, saddled with many responsibilities but remaining unbent, even when emotionally drained.

 

“Why do it then? Why save me or, for that matter, marry a guy you clearly don’t love?” That question burned with anticipation.

 

Merlin went back to staring wistfully outside. “My obligation, my _duty_ as a Prince and ruler is to do what is necessary and right, for my family and my people, even before my own desires. No matter how painful.”

 

Arthur gazed at the beautiful man in front of him. He felt unworthy before all that grace, honor and loyalty.

 

He also felt very much in danger of falling for him, hard and fast.

 

He suspected that the resulting crash and burn would be something Arthur would never recover from.

 

They let silence enfold them and time passed. Arthur was lulled to a light sleep by the plane’s gentle vibrations until a sharp chirping woke him up. He rubbed his eyes, blinking only to find Merlin’s face mere inches from his.

 

The prince shoved his communicator device to Arthur’s nose, who leaned back reflexively.

 

“We are here, Arthur! We must land!”

 

What the-? 

 

The sleepiness was still clouding Arthur’s mind. Nonetheless, he yelled to Leigh inquiring about the area. His response was not encouraging, but that did not stop Merlin’s desperate scrambling for their few belongings.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, watching his companion head to the plane door and grab hold of it from each side. Without hesitation, Merlin forced his fingers into the door frame, bending the metal slightly, before pulling the door off its hinges completely without a struggle. Arthur gaped.

 

“What. The. Fuck?!” screamed Leigh, who twisted on his seat and gawked at Merlin and his now broken door.

 

“There’s no time, we might lose it!” Merlin yelled over the rushing winds, an elated smile brightening his no longer brooding features. “Bye, Leigh. See you later!”

 

With nary a blink, he jumped off the plane. Arthur cursed, heart on his throat, before launching towards the door to watch that stupid, crazy man free falling. 

 

An incredulous laugh escaped him when he saw Merlin plummeting without worry.

 

“Arthur, h-he had no parachute!” Leigh screeched, very much not alright with the situation.

 

Arthur shrugged helplessly. “We’ll be fine. Another day on the job. Thanks for everything Leigh. We might contact you for the return trip, so please make note of the coordinates. Seeya!”

 

Finished with his farewell, Arthur jumped. He straightened his body and slanted down in an effort to catch up to the wayward prince. Merlin was unfamiliar with jumping down from a plane, so his angled body was catching the wind and slowing his descent.

 

Arthur let the thrill of the fall wash over him.

 

Thus, they fell until there was no more sky. Sand burst in a huge wave when they crashed. Their resilient bodies received no true damage, and the dunes’ incline softened their arrival by forcing them to roll downwards. They reached the bottom.

 

Arthur laughed loudly and freely, exhilarated from the adrenaline. Merlin was nearby, coughing and sputtering, shaking sand off his everything, unsuccessfully.

 

Arthur patted himself down from the worst of the sand and stood up. Merlin was already meandering after a blinking light in his GPS. Arthur followed sedately.

 

The sun burned overhead, making their every step more difficult over the sinking piles of sand. The dunes stretched over the horizon, with no signs of life, human or otherwise.

 

Arthur’s good humor was lost after hours of walking, Merlin a chattering guide a few steps ahead. He had been recounting the history of the Deserter Kingdom, their initial settlement in the Sahara, following accomplishments, official separation with the fall of Atlantis and eventual perishing without the support from the other oceanic kingdoms.

 

“We are almost there,” said Merlin, interrupting his own train of thought over the last set of treasured weapons the Deserters had gifted, to a bunch of unimportant royals, from an uninteresting lineage, for banal reasons. 

 

Arthur cared not one jot for the contents of Merlin’s words, preferring to get lost over the pleasant tenor of his voice.

 

But _that_ had caught his attention, and caused him to grumble. “Almost _where_? There’s nothing for miles around here, Merlin.”

 

Merlin looked over his shoulder. “We’ll know when we get there, Arthur.”

 

“I doubt it. Walking a little longer will not change the fact that we are surrounded by sand, and _only_ sand.”

 

“The communicator will not lead us astray. An entrance to the capital will be nearby.” A twitch developed over Merlin’s eyebrow, and Arthur silently rejoiced in having company in his irritation.

 

“ _Mer_ lin, I can assure you that we will find zero, zilch, nada when we get wherever your thing is taking us.”

 

“You cannot possibly want to give up now, we barely started.”

 

“Barely? It’s been hours! Are you sure your thing isn’t broken?”

 

“Your _nose_ will get broken if you continue complaining. Do you _want_ me to punch you?!”

 

“Don’t be so sensitive, just admit that this whole trip was pointless.”

 

“P-Pointless? Arthur Pendragon! You are an infuriatingly spoiled, clotpole of a man! There is nothing pointless about this quest!”

 

“What even is a clotpole? And just look! Here, sand, and there, dry sand, and over there, pretty but ultimately still sand! Would you just admit it?!”

 

Merlin strangled an exasperated yell, turning abruptly around that he almost clipped Arthur on his chin with the communicator.

 

“It is not my fault that your surface world is such a dreary place. Why would you even want to call it your home?!”

 

“This is not the best example of it. You can’t judge the surface for it’s biggest desert!” Arthur was intently adamant on this topic. He would not have Merlin think so badly of the human world.

 

“Of course not,” Merlin answered, mockingly. He continued his trekking. “Better to do it for its stinking cities, poisonous clouds, garbage mountains and contaminating people-”

 

“Alright!”

 

There was a pause as Arthur had grabbed Merlin’s upper arm and forcefully brought him around. They tried to catch their breath, glaring into each other’s eyes.

 

The fact that Arthur vaguely considered the Saharan sun’s heat secondary to Merlin’s with as close as they currently were, woke him from his slight trance. He let go and took a step back.

 

“I admit that humans have all that, by the fault of an unfortunate few. But that doesn’t change the fact that there is still beauty to be found. Clean, crisp places, tranquil and untouched, or lively with people and cultures, and full of history.”

 

Merlin breathing evened. He looked disbelieving but was still willing to listen. Arthur wanted to change his mind, desperately, that he promised himself he would do so by the end of their quest.

 

“So you are asking me to not judge the surface on appearances or hearsay, before I actually see it.” Arthur nodded, firmly and relieved. Merlin’s eyes gained a glint. “Like _you_ did for Atlantis? Refusing to ever set foot in it and thinking the worst of us?”

 

Arthur closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This gorgeous, vexing man could rile him up like no other, even if his words rang truthfully.

 

Merlin eyed him, huffed and stepped away, back to studying his device. Arthur growled lowly and reached out to take the thing from his hands.

 

“Wait a minute! We are _not_ done-!” The blond took a few steps to the side, keeping the GPS out of reach of Merlin when he felt the sand underneath him give way, far more than the slight sinking during their previous hike.

 

He fell. The last thing he saw in the Saharan sun was Merlin’s wide disbelieving eyes before darkness swallowed him and he was hurling through a slide-like construct.

 

Gathering his wits, Arthur held his limbs close and dug his heels to try and slow down his descent. It did not work. The slide was made of a bone white material, slippery and smooth with no way to gain traction. The sand made it worse, traveling down with him and obscuring his view.

 

The tight rocky tunnels opened to a cavernous hall. The end of the slide came into view, high above a ravine of which the topmost ledges were framed with dilapidated buildings and statues.

 

If Arthur held to the end of the slide, he would be able to drop to the ledge right underneath. He tucked the device still in his hands in a jacket pocket and timed his dive. Suddenly, there was no more support underneath him, so Arthur caught the very end of the slide with his fingertips and used all his strength to leverage his body in a swing straight down rather than sideways to the empty middle of the ravine.

 

He held and dropped. His breath got knocked out, but there was no more rapid falls or desperate scrambling.

 

Sand continued sliding down the slope, raining on him for which he covered his eyes, but a yell echoing high above called his attention. Merlin must have thrown himself in after Arthur, the idiot.

 

He waited until the sand increased, indicating a greater weight forcing it down. Merlin appeared, dropping in an arch.

 

Arthur shot out an arm off the ledge and grabbed Merlin’s forearm, halting his descent abruptly and using the momentum to swing him back and over.

 

He pulled Merlin towards him, and grunted when his whole body weight settled on top. For a moment, both men tried to catch their breath in the ringing silence of the large cavern.

 

Merlin started coughing, and with shaking limbs pushed himself slightly off Arthur, placing both hands over his shoulders.

 

Arthur blinked until his eyes adjusted. And promptly lost his breath again.

 

Merlin’s beautiful eyes were staring at him, closer than ever. His black hair looked mussed, his long lashes fluttered in the low lighting, and there was dirt smudged on his cheeks.

 

Arthur could not remember seeing a more arresting sight than that.

 

More importantly, their lower bodies were touching, _everywhere_. For a second, Arthur thought he had died and gone to heaven.

 

Then reality came crashing back, bringing more sand and rocky debris from the slide hanging above them. Merlin shoved himself off to the side, and Arthur swallowed a mouthful of sand.

 

Sputtering, he sat up and tried to shake it all off exclaiming ” _Mer_ lin!”.

 

Second time in as many hours that Arthur got really familiar with sand. The sea prince sure knew how to aggravate him.

 

Said man laughed, standing up and dusting himself off. Arthur could not help but laugh too.

 

“That was a fun ride,” said Merlin, impish smile in place. “Let’s do it again!”

 

“Not on your life,” Arthur answered without missing a beat. They grinned at each other, previous argument forgotten.

 

Arthur looked around and noticed a large promising entrance which was barred by a collapsed column. He stepped closer and kicked the big stones in, opening the way. He motioned for Merlin to lead the way.

 

The interior of the room was messy and dirty but the impressive structure still held. Merlin gasped, wonder suffusing his face.

 

“It’s the hall of armory as depicted in some tomes describing the Deserter history. You can see their large machinery and other tools used to build weapons. Here it was that Atlan’s Trident was created.”

 

Arthur was inclined to believe everything that Gaius had said now, if only because Merlin’s elated expression at their current location was captivating and he wanted to keep it there.

 

“I cannot believe we found it so easy and fast.” Merlin’s words caused Arthur to chuckle.

 

“If you call falling from an airplane and traipsing a desert for hours easy.”

 

Merlin ignored him, heading towards a giant machine fixed to the ground at the back of the cavern. It had numerous gears in its internal mechanism, visible since the cover had fallen over.

 

The prince fingered around the top of the machine, until he found indents on it that looked somewhat familiar. Arthur watched him take out the message bearer from the satchel he had bought so Merlin could put away his pouch with his armor.

 

They held their breaths while Merlin connected the cylinder to the machine.

 

Nothing happened.

 

“Did you break it?” Arthur wondered, thoughtlessly.

 

“I did not!” squawked Merlin, offended.

 

They fiddled around with the machine but nothing seemed to work. They slumped, defeated and disappointed.

 

“Why is it not working?” pondered Merlin, biting his lip.

 

Arthur studied the walls of the ancient room and answered him absentmindedly. “Maybe it’s too old and dried up. It’s been here since before Atlantis sunk. What if they couldn’t use water energy anymore after that happened? This is the Sahara Desert,” he said. Then, he blinked.

 

Huh. His father always said he reasoned best when he wasn’t conscious of it.

 

Merlin gasped once again. His elated expression was back, but this time directed at _Arthur_.

 

He felt his cheeks blush and his heart throb and…

 

 **Fucking** **hell** , Arthur was _smitten_.

 

“Of course! _Water_ ,” exclaimed the prince, patting himself down before huffing in irritation. He looked around before stopping on Arthur and eyeing him. He extended his hand to Arthur’s forehead, and his eyes washed gold.

 

A shudder traveled down Arthur’s spine and he felt light-headed, staring into those bewitching set of jewels gazing at him, drowned in power.

 

A drop of his sweat gathered on Merlin’s finger, held there by sorcery. The prince brought it to the bearer and let go, the liquid traversing a tangling line towards the bottom of the cylinder, lighting it up on the way.

 

Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand as they stepped back, gears loudly roaring in their turning when the bearer activated over the machine.

 

The message was about to be played. This whole trip had proved to be not so pointless after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 12: For Want of a Heading
> 
> Tracking the next quest clue leads to a beautiful island that encourages a closer connection between the well-matched pair.


	12. For Want of a Heading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracking the next quest clue leads to a beautiful island that encourages a closer connection between the well-matched pair.

~~~*~~~

 

**Kingdom of Deserter - Capital Crastinus, Hall of Armory**

 

The room shook slightly when the giant gears activated. Arthur studied their surroundings, just in case he had to stash Merlin and himself somewhere more defensible. The place itself was not structurally stable, considering the years since it had last been repaired or reinforced.

 

Arthur felt Merlin squeeze his hand before the image of a man - a King - filled the back wall of the cavernous room, hovering over the machine.

 

The trembling stopped, while the image flickered in and out before settling. The man, Atlan according to Merlin’s awed mutterings, was holding a trident in his hand. He turned to the side, looking questioningly off-camera for a moment, before returning his attention straight ahead.

 

Strangely, that glimpse of doubt or nervousness, or whatever it had been, made Arthur relax because he remembered. 

 

Atlan might have been a King of Legend, but he had also been a man whose very human faults had brought world ending consequences to his people. If anything, the fact that he had chosen to hide the very power that had destroyed Atlantis centuries past said less about his capabilities as a King and more about his worth as a man, considering his renown for possessing it in the first place.

 

Arthur’s musings were interrupted when the image started talking. The sound reverberated in a language older than the current one used by the oceanic people. The vocabulary was notably different, but certain nuances were still there.

 

Arthur had learned atlantean formally from Gaius, but mostly when to use what and how to address certain things, people and situations. The grammar, in a sense. It was surprising to find out that his brain was naturally hardwired to understand and speak atlantean without a need for years of study.

 

There was a magical reason for it, but Arthur had not bothered to listen to his teacher’s explanations back then. It did make it easy to learn the Indo-European root languages of the surface world, with the added support of being born in Amnesty Bay to a literature professional like his father, no less.

 

In the end, Arthur just took it as a given and rolled with it. So, he did not question his automatic understanding of Atlan’s words.

 

At least, until he saw Merlin’s thoughtful expression. He seemed to be thinking over the contents of the message, yes. But, if Arthur was not mistaken, he also looked like he was mentally translating.

 

What was going on? First Gaius’ map and now this? Was there something unnatural going on in his head?

 

Once the message concluded, the image receded and the gears stopped turning. The soft blue glow produced by the ancient technology turned off, leaving them in faint darkness once again.

 

He worried silently until Merlin tugged his hand out of Arthur’s hold, catching his attention. The sorcerer walked to the machine, taking the bearer out and gazing back at the blond over his shoulder.

 

Then, he threw the cylinder to the floor, shattering it into innumerable pieces.

 

Arthur gaped, stunned. “What the _hell,_ Merlin?!”

 

Merlin blinked, confused. “What? We cannot let anyone else find out about this. Especially Mordred.”

 

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face in exasperation. “ _Yes_ , but shouldn’t we have written it down or something? So we could be certain of its contents in the future?”

 

Hearing that, Merlin crossed his arms and stared back with an unimpressed look. “I _memorized_ it, Arthur. Did you not do it yourself?”

 

Arthur had, in fact, memorized it. The words were still swirling in his mind, filled with information beyond their literal meaning. Including the secret message that shook him to his core, but which he had no way of truly understanding. Not yet.

 

He huffed and rolled his eyes, not deigning to answer his companion. 

 

Merlin stepped away carefully from the machine but tripped when a small portion of the floor moved, revealing a secret compartment. Arthur caught him around the waist, and dragged them both away until he was sure nothing else around the room would suddenly move.

 

After the compartment on the floor finished opening, they braced for anything else to crop up. Arthur tightened his hold on Merlin’s slender figure just in case.

 

But nothing happened.

 

Merlin hummed under his breath before he patted Arthur’s arm around his waist absently. Arthur let go automatically.

 

They closed in on the recess and studied the contents. A bottle laid inside with something furled in.

 

“ _Look inside the bottle for the Charted Path,_ ” Merlin recited from Atlan’s message as he reached in to grab said object.

 

He took out what appeared to be a map made of the same durable fabric as Gaius’ rendition of the Trident. The bottle too was made of a green tinted crystal material.

 

Arthur leaned over Merlin's shoulder to study the contents of the map. “Sicily, uh?” He read out loud, unwittingly breathing the words on his companion’s ear.

 

Merlin shivered and took a step away. Arthur blinked bemusedly as the sorcerer started rubbing a hand over his chest while wearing a bewildered expression.

 

Feeling strangely bereft, Arthur suddenly realized that over the course of their adventure he had been casually touching the other prince without noticing ~~or being rebuffed~~.

 

Arthur coughed, slightly embarrassed at the thought. So what, it surely didn’t mean anything. Merlin must have been distracted by the quest, or maybe it was customary in Atlantis to invade anyone’s personal space…

 

Anyways, what was Arthur doing grabbing Merlin as if he was entitled to. He was supposed to keep a distance from the young man or risk getting hurt. After all, Merlin was a striking individual, completely uninterested and most importantly _taken._

 

Nevermind their current state of affairs as fugitives of the kingdom.

 

“It seems we have our heading, right Merlin?” Arthur said, loudly. 

 

He silently berated himself for the awkward crack in his voice.

 

Merlin woke from his slight trance and looked at Arthur. “Yes, I believe you are right.” Spreading the map still in his hands, the prince’s brow furrowed while studying the contents again.

 

Arthur bit his lip. Ocean help him, he looked adorable.

 

“But, how are we going to get there?”

 

“Leave that to me. Leigh must be around here somewhere. We’ll just need to contact him and he’ll take us most of the way there.”

 

“Why not all the way?”

 

Arthur shrugged. “He’s not allowed in Italy. He also does not have business nor permission to fly over that area. But we can make do.”

 

Merlin eyed Arthur, incredulous, but he abstained from asking. Just as well, the story was long and it did not paint his friend in a flattering light.

 

Time to get the show on the road again. If they were lucky, they could explore a little of the area during their search for the next clue. This would mean showing Merlin a beautiful sort of place within the surface world.

 

With that goal in mind, Arthur took out the satellite phone from the satchel hanging across Merlin’s shoulders while the prince continued perusing the map. Merlin turned to look at him in response, and Arthur blinked at their abrupt closeness.

 

Mere inches apart, they gazed back at each other for what seemed an eternal second to Arthur, before he turned around embarrassed and walked away towards the chamber entrance.

 

He had done it again, pulling close to Merlin and casually reaching into his space. And Merlin had let him, unbothered and naive.

 

Arthur needed to stop doing that to himself.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea**

 

Merlin observed the waves crashing against their vessel before raising his head to stare across the horizon to the approaching island which, according to Arthur, was known to the human world as Sicily. The light of dawn touched some of the visible buildings in the distance making the view picturesque.

 

Idly, he thought back to their trip from the Deserter Kingdom to their current location.

 

They had managed to find a way to the surface after exploring around the hall of armory. It took a little bit of doing, but some of the mechanism used to bring down equipment was still serviceable which allowed them to raise a platform as high as possible. Then, Merlin had used his magic to force it the rest of the way upwards. They had burst out of a dune.

 

Merlin would feel sand on his skin for days, unless Gaia was merciful.

 

Arthur had been impressed and Merlin remembered that the blond did not know about sea sorcerers, magic or aquakinesis. So he recounted more of Atlantis’ history, focused on Xebel, while they traversed the desert in search of their ride.

 

Eventually, they found Leigh. He was understandably annoyed at, yet also strangely wary of, Merlin himself. Arthur had led him away to converse but Merlin had still heard Leigh’s exclamations about ‘flight risks’ and ‘of course there’s something wrong with him, he’s too pretty!’.

 

Humans were confusing sometimes, so he did not bother following the conversation.

 

They flew to another airport to restock before Leigh took them the rest of the way to a coast city in a country Arthur had called Tunisia. Once they said their goodbyes to the flighty yet very helpful air pilot, they continued their journey on foot until they reached the coast.

 

Arthur had proceeded to get them a ship from the numerous ones parked along the docks. It had a sea captain and everything; how thoughtful. If anything, the public transportation in the human world was well developed, probably to make up for their slow and awkward trekking on land as well as their inability at sea.

 

Merlin found it very solicitous of the surface to provide ships for anyone at shore. He had not enjoyed air travel as much, so he supposed some preferred to journey across the sea like him. It was very considerate.

 

When they docked, Arthur remained behind to converse with the captain. Merlin hoped he was being appropriately thankful for the trip.

 

While the blond was busy, the prince studied his communicator. He had entered the coordinates per Atlan’s map and it looked like, from where they stood, their destination was a few miles inland.

 

Merlin wanted to take the map out and make sure everything was correct, but he also did not want to risk someone else seeing it yet. A glint from the pearl on his golden cuff, the memento of Ygraine gifted to him by Mordred, caught his attention. Merlin frowned.

 

“Oi, Merlin, I’m done,” called out Arthur, walking down the plank of the small vessel into the dock. “We’re going to have to get a bus from here or hitch a ride, whichever one is fastest. Do you have a preference?”

 

Merlin tilted his head in thought, but ultimately shook his head. While on the surface, Arthur was indubitably the expert.

 

“Alright, I’m going to look around to see what I can find out. Don’t move from this spot, and _don’t_ get in trouble. I’ll be right back!”

 

Arthur walked into the crowd of humans and Merlin promptly lost sight of him.

 

The jerk. He was the one getting them in trouble at every opportunity.

 

To be contrary, Merlin walked across the main road, matching his steps with other surface people and being careful of the land vehicles, until he arrived at a nearby public square - according to some signs in the universal language -. 

 

He looked around in wonder.

 

This place was not so different to the gathering plazas in the underwater capitals. The hustle and bustle was the same, with only the buildings and structures being really different. There was even a diverse cast of people, just as they had some varied species undersea.

 

Merlin walked closer to the side where there were several storefronts with tables outside. A few humans were quietly eating or drinking, and the prince mused that him and Arthur should get some sustenance themselves before long.

 

He was carefully considering the choices of venues, thinking about picking one and making Arthur take him there, when someone interrupted his train of thought.

 

“Hello there! I’m Adam. Me and my friends were going out for some drinks, and saw you standing here, alone. Wanna hang out with us? It’ll be fun. What’s your name?” babbled a nervous voice behind Merlin, nonstop. He looked over his shoulder to find a young human male smiling anxiously at him. A group of other males were in the background, making… encouraging gestures?

 

Merlin blinked at the man, bewildered, and did not answer.

 

The unfamiliar male became increasingly uncomfortable, fidgeting in place. “Hey, can you understand me?”

 

“I can understand you perfectly fine,” answered Merlin, face blank. “What I cannot comprehend is: why would you invite _me_ , a total stranger, to spend time with _you_ , a total stranger to me?” Here he hesitated, not wanting to sound rude or ignorant. “Is this… a human ritual?”

 

The other man gaped at him before visibly shaking himself. He was about to step closer when-

 

“ **Babe** , _here_ you are! I told you not to walk too far away,” Arthur’s gruff baritone was heard a moment before a muscular arm surrounded Merlin’s waist, the hand squeezing his hip lightly.

 

Merlin turned to Arthur, puzzled but relaxing in his presence. The blond looked at the stranger with an overly friendly, if stiff, smile. “Thanks for keeping him company,” he said, nodding at the guy before walking away and bringing Merlin with him.

 

The stranger’s faint ‘no problem’ was lost in the crowd but Merlin did not care much. The weight of Arthur’s arm, and the searing heat spreading through his body from its touch, was keeping him distracted.

 

“I swear, _Mer_ lin, you are unbelievable. How is it that you can be so tempting even in the surface? God knows they’re less tolerant,” Arthur’s mumbling brought Merlin out of his stupor.

 

The prince eyed his companion, confused at his words. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

 

Arthur gazed at him in disbelief. He quickly changed his mind, chuckling amusedly at an unappreciative Merlin. 

 

“Of course you don’t.” 

 

Merlin blinked. Arthur sounded… affectionate? 

 

A blush spread from his neck, painting his cheeks a rosy tint all the way to his ears. Merlin hated blushing since he believed his countenance became very unappealing when it happened.

 

Strangely, Arthur tripped out of nowhere but managed to catch himself before falling.

 

He was staring straight at Merlin with a dumbfounded look on his face.

 

Baffling clot-pole.

 

Merlin ignored the elder prince and continued walking away, which caused Arthur’s arm to fall from its place. He disregarded his own disappointment at the loss of its warmth.

 

“Did you find a transport? And any thoughts on the riddle and the map?”

 

That snapped Arthur from his trance.

 

The pair continued their trek along the streets of the small city, until they reached an outer road where Arthur got them a ride. They mounted the back of the truck and took off.

 

Merlin watched the scenery pass them by. Rocky formations, small towns with stone edifices embedded in the mountains, and the surrounding sea crisp and clear at the shores which disappeared the higher they drove.

 

The sorcerer was enchanted.

 

This was a quiet place, a friendly place in the surface cocooned by tranquil waters, clear skies and a refreshing breeze. The architecture was old but well kept, no doubt full of history from ages past.

 

Merlin would like to spend time here in the future. Once Mordred’s crusade was stopped, his people were safe and they all had time to breathe.

 

They arrived at the hilltop where another small town sat, getting off the vehicle when it was parked temporarily. Afterwards, they both waved at the truck driver as he continued on his way.

 

Merlin eagerly studied their surroundings. It was a busy square sat on a stone balcony overlooking the valleys on the island side as well as the sea. Like the city off the coast, this one had markets and storefronts with people chatting or eating nearby.

 

The businesses had colorful displays and the employees were cheerily calling out to the tourists. Merlin walked aimlessly, looking around to take everything in. Arthur followed a few steps behind, having taken the map from the prince’s satchel to peruse the contents again.

 

Feeling slightly hungry, Merlin scrutinized the cuisine that some humans were consuming nearby. His lips pursed.

 

It was not that the food looked unappetizing, he just did not feel up to adventuring at the moment nor to trying surface animal meat.

 

Merlin searched around until he found something more to his tastes. The vegetation in the surface was very different to the one found undersea, but it seemed more appealing than the other gastronomy. Stepping closer to the booth, Merlin leaned in to cautiously sniff at a curiously deep red flower.

 

It smelled divine.

 

The vendor exclaimed joyously in another language, taking hold of a whole package of the red flowers, complete with decorating ribbons, and offered it to Merlin.

 

Curious. Apparently there was no need to pay. Since the vendor was being so nice after seeing Merlin’s interest in the particular species, he did not want to offend by rejecting the offer. He accepted it, eyeing the person’s enthusiastic nod, and shrugged.

 

Humans sure knew how to adorn their food properly to attract attention.

 

He continued on his way.

 

(Arthur paid for the bouquet and thanked the man, before hurrying after his wayward companion.)

 

There seemed to be entertainment being displayed at the center of the plaza. Merlin stepped closer to observe while absentmindedly eating one of his new flowers whole.

 

A little dry, but the taste was intriguing.

 

Arthur approached and Merlin remembered his manners. He extended his flowers in the direction of the blond and nodded at them.

 

Arthur paused before he leaned in to take a bite of one flower. For some reason, this made Merlin smile brightly.

 

Arthur’s eyes warmed as he returned the gesture amidst chewing. Inexplicably, Merlin felt his cheeks flush.

 

This was becoming a thing, blushing in Arthur’s presence.

 

They strolled up the streets leisurely while they finished their meal. Arthur questioned a few people on the way while showing them the map, to Merlin’s consternation, and learnt where they needed to go. He lead Merlin to the very summit of the town at the edge of a cliff.

 

The waves crashed down below them noisily, and several other humans were standing around taking pictures of the place. The flat stone overhang where they stood had dilapidated statues on pedestals placed around in a circle.

 

“This is it?” asked Merlin, raising an eyebrow at his companion. Arthur rolled his eyes.

 

“This is the only place of interest to us, that could relate to the map.”

 

Merlin frowned, took the map back and perused it while eyeing their surroundings. Arthur walked to each pedestal.

 

“Power of Atlantis,” Merlin mumbled under his breath in thought. “Destruction, Unite, Worth, Hidden Sea…”

 

“Look inside the bottle for the Charted Path!” Arthur cried out before he was suddenly back in Merlin’s space, reaching inside the satchel to take out the bottle where the map had been.

 

Merlin let him, as he had been doing unconsciously for the better part of their journey, while he tried to ignore the flutter in his chest that Arthur’s recitation of the message had caused.

 

It was not that he did not believe Arthur when he said that he memorized it. Rather, just like every time the blond talked to his humans in their own languages, it brought to mind how brilliant Arthur really was.

 

He may still be a brute every once in a while, but Merlin was discovering that there really was more to Arthur than he previously thought.

 

“Woah!”

 

Arthur was excitedly looking around through the mouth of the bottle. Several of the tourists standing nearby stared at them both funny before giving them a wide berth.

 

Merlin sighed.

 

“ _Look_ at this, Merlin!” The prince reflexively took the bottle when it was shoved in his face. Arthur’s face showed enthusiasm at his discovery.

 

And what a discovery it was.

 

Merlin looked inside the bottle to see sunlight shining through the green tinted clear material and highlighting the purposeful patterns at the bottom. The image of a trident could be made out, nestled in the hands of Poseidon sitting in a chariot driven by dolphins. 

 

It was a chart drawn to fit constellations which would produce coordinates to a very straight forward destination. Only, if you knew where to first point the bottle.

 

“How are going to know where to point it at?” asked Merlin, looking back at a pensive Arthur.

 

“Only in the hands of the True King can He Truly See,” the blond recited in answer, eyeing the pedestals with the statues around them.

 

Merlin bit back an expletive at the words. He hoped it was not referring to the One True King malarkey. He had had enough of that all his life.

 

“Merlin, you said Atlan had traveled the world, correct? After the Fall?”

 

Merlin blinked in surprise. “Yes, he did.”

 

“Even the human world?”

 

“I believe he mostly explored the surface, before he went into exile. Last thing he did was ensure that the Kingdoms had been established properly and that his people were as safe as possible after the sinking. Tritonis was the last city he visited before he disappeared.”

 

Arthur’s head tilted slightly in confusion, his thoughts temporarily derailed. “Tritonis?”

 

Merlin nodded. “The capital of what is now known as the Lost Kingdom.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow before he shook his head and continued examining the pedestals. Merlin noted vaguely that the rest of the humans had moved on to another architectural attraction. The pair was on their own.

 

“All these people were a part of history already, at the time of the sinking,” mused Arthur, standing in front of one of the statues at the edge overlooking the sea. He gazed back at Merlin over his shoulders. “Which means that this is the one. Romulus.”

 

Merlin stepped closer to eye said sculpture. “Romulus?”

 

“The True King, whose hand will show us the way.”

 

With those bold words, Arthur placed the bottle in the statue’s extended hand, which was tellingly shaped the right way to hold it. When he leaned in to see through the bottle, he laughed, cheerful and triumphant.

 

It was a beautiful sound.

 

Merlin shook off that thought. 

 

“Let me see!” he insisted instead, pushing an unresistant blond off the pedestal to lean in himself.

 

The image matched perfectly with the view off the cliff in that direction. Even though one thousand years had passed since Atlan’s clues were made, it seemed that this part of the world had not suffered erosion or any surface changes.

 

It could also be that magic had kept it unchanged or that the bottle itself had adjusted to reality. Either way, they had a heading.

 

“How did you know?” wondered Merlin, very impressed. Arthur looked away, brushing a hand through his hair and flushing lightly.

 

Seeing Arthur adorably embarrassed delighted Merlin.

 

“My old man made sure I learnt my history. Besides, it always interested me.”

 

“History?” Merlin could not help but feel very excited at the prospect, considering he loved the subject.

 

Before Arthur could agree, Merlin tripped off the statue, having turned too far back. Without hesitation, the elder prince caught him easily, grabbing hold of his hips and hugging Merlin close. 

 

Merlin automatically threw his arms around Arthur’s neck.

 

With the blond holding him aloft, Merlin stared down into his friend’s intriguing blue eyes while Arthur looked up into his. 

 

Merlin swallowed dryly.

 

The temptation to lean down grew in intensity, and a sudden realization swept over Merlin. How long had this been going on…?

 

“ _ARTHUR_!”

 

The booming yell echoed around them, before several thuds were heard from behind the pair. The remaining nearby humans screamed before running away. Arthur dropped Merlin to his feet and turned around, keeping himself in between the prince and the newcomers.

 

Merlin did not appreciate that. He pushed around his friend to stand by his side, and gasped.

 

A group of five atlantean soldiers stood before them, each carrying energy weapons and wearing protective headgear. One of them stepped ahead of the others and Merlin prepared to defend, if needed.

 

“Leon?” Arthur’s question shocked Merlin for a moment before he realized that he was right. The Elite knight was the one who had called out to Arthur. Did they know each other?

 

Leon removed his helmet, unconcerned as water cascaded down his armor. After all, being noble allowed him to breathe on the surface.

 

His worried expression was concerning. “Arthur, we _must_ get out of here. You are being **hunted**. They are **tracking** -”

 

The remaining words were cut off by the unexpected explosion at Arthur and Merlin’s backs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! You will have to forgive me but...
> 
> Next on Chapter 13: Interlude - Perspectives 
> 
> An advisor witnesses his King felling a Queen. A knight entertains a future ruled by his Prince. Two Princesses discuss the participants of the upcoming battlefield.


	13. Interlude - Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An advisor witnesses his King felling a Queen. A knight entertains a future ruled by his Prince. Two Princesses discuss the participants of the upcoming battlefield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was nerve wracking. Of all my pre-written chapters, this was one that refused to be put down in words. Needless to say I was anxious to finish it because my personal deadline was up already!
> 
> Enjoy this small glimpse into ominous hints as well as some other characters' perspectives on our favorite pair.

^~^~^~^

 

**Somewhere in the Indian Ocean - Royal Atlantean Warship**

 

Gaius sighed in relief, discreetly, as he stared at the blinking dot on the holographic map hovering over the main console.

 

Across him were Mordred and Balinor arguing over their next actions regarding the fugitives. While Gaius was very disappointed, if not surprised, by Mordred having placed a tracker on Merlin without his knowledge, he was happy to know that both him and Arthur were safe and on their way to the Deserter Kingdom.

 

Despite the fact that both youngsters had demonstrated resilience and skill many times over the years, Gaius had still been deeply worried after watching the video of the crash. The cameras around the canyon walls had been too far away to distinguish anything but the explosion after the watercraft had reached the lava.

 

King Balinor had watched it on repeat with Gaius, quiet and stoic. His aura, however, had grown dense and heavy, making many of the attendants and soldiers around nervous and twitchy. Xebel’s King may not have the level of raw power his children did, but he was no pushover. Mordred himself had been anxious, keeping his distance from his fellow ruler.

 

They had spent hours like this. 

 

Gaius silently fretted, thinking he had sent Leon and the others in a fool’s errand and trying to distract himself with ordering the clean up of the Colosseum. He didn’t know what he would do if Arthur was gone. Ygraine’s boy, Gaius’ true king, had such a big destiny that the advisor would never forgive himself if he was truly dead. That young man was meant for great things and Gaius had seen it in the child, could still see it in the adult, in the bearing Arthur carried. When he was together with Merlin? They orbited around each other with such harmony, their presence reflecting off the other, that they shone so brightly in Gaius’ limited magical senses.

 

Finally, Mordred took the initiative of ordering the royal warship deployed. Atlantis and Xebel had planned to travel to Shayeris, the capital of the Fishermen Kingdom, that same day. The plan had been delayed by the challenge, but Mordred was not going to derail it any longer.

 

They departed. Balinor sealed himself in the guest quarters while Mordred personally directed the ship. Gaius had been ordered to accompany the king, and the advisor complied. With no word from the pair of princes, he had no choice than to do his best to curve the atlantean king’s plans somehow.

 

Gaius had observed with trepidation the way Mordred behaved. Whatever the young man believed of himself or of his self-imposed mission, he too had been affected by Arthur and Merlin’s possible deaths.

 

What the old warrior was unable to discern was whether Mordred was more upset for his fiance or his brother.

 

At last, they were all called to the main deck urgently. Valiant had pulled the information from Merlin’s tracker and displayed it, its location somewhere over the surface world where once stood the Deserter Kingdom. Balinor (and Mordred) had been relieved.

 

Now, the kings argued loudly. Balinor expected the immediate _safe_ retrieval of Merlin. He didn’t care what Atlantis would think or demand of the betraying prince, he insisted on a fair trial. Mordred, on the other hand, wished for the capture of both princes, forcefully if necessary, so they would be condemned for their actions.

 

“Your majesties!” interrupted Gaius, stepping between both royals and gazing calmly from one to the other. “Perhaps you can both agree on a course of action, after you have dealt with Queen Rina. We are at Shayeris’ gates. Prince Emrys and the half-breed are leagues away. The Fishermen should be a priority.”

 

At his reasonable tone, both rulers calmed down.

 

“Very well,” Balinor agreed, before sending a sharp glare to his younger counterpart. “But hear me, Mordred, Prince Emrys is to be returned unharmed to Xebel. Otherwise, our alliance is severed. Where will your armies be, then?”

 

Mordred’s countenance darkened, but he nodded stiffly. “So be it. My esteemed advisor is right, however. We ought to focus on gaining the Queen’s allegiance to our cause. Valiant!”

 

Said captain immediately kneeled by his king.

 

“Assemble your best among the elite and retrieve our fugitives. Prince Emrys in particular must not be harmed. Lead them yourself.”

 

“It will be as you command, my King.”

 

Gaius frowned, having seen the silent exchange between king and captain. Mordred eyed Valiant behind Balinor’s back, and Valiant nodded decisively. But, the advisor refrained from commenting. He had faith in Arthur and Merlin stopping whatever Valiant attempted, and Leon and the others should not be far behind.

 

His words had worked, at least. Better to leave the pair alone as long as possible to find the trident.

 

Shayeris hailed them. The fishermen inquired about their presence, and Mordred himself requested an audience with the royal family. After a few tense minutes they were granted access.

 

Gaius observed curiously the beautiful city revealed once the massive gates opened. Few were the times when seaborn could traverse the gates of other kingdoms. It was truly sad that they had shut their borders and limited their interactions with each other. All because Atlan went into exile, the Nuada was lost and the Trench fell.

 

The warship was left outside the capital gates, and both Kings, the advisor and a handful of guards from both kingdoms boarded a smaller vessel. They docked over the spacious landing stage of the castle. 

 

Balinor left the xebellian soldiers at the doors of the throne room, and only the atlantean ones followed inside.

 

The rulers swam forward as Gaius remained behind them. In front of them, seated at the grand throne was the Queen of the Fishermen, Rina the Clear Headed. Her few attendants stood on the side.

 

The Queen raised from her seat and floated closer to her guests, her long tail moving sinuously. All present of lesser positions bowed before the rulers, as the trio merely nodded to each other.

 

“I bid you welcome, King Mordred of Atlantis, King Balinor of Xebel. I was not expecting this visit.” Her grave, throaty voice resounded as she made a motion with her trident to the closest attendants. They left, closing the side doors quietly.

 

“My Queen Rina, I thank you for your graceful welcome and I apologize for our unanticipated appearance,” said Mordred, smiling charmingly. Rina raised a brow and side-eyed Balinor.

 

The other king bore a stoic expression. “It has been a while, Rina. How fare your people?”

 

“Constructive has been our time. Abundant our blessings. And fruitful has been our search for knowledge. Yours?”

 

Mordred cleared his throat. His fellow rulers turned to him. “I apologize for the interruption, but I wish to get to the point. The reason we are at your doors-”

 

“I _know_ why you are here, young one,” Rina interjected, floating downwards. Mordred frowned but followed her with Balinor. The three rulers stood in a circle at the bottom of the throne room.

 

Above them, by the thrones, the side doors opened as Rina’s mate and heir appeared. Gaius watched as King Godwyn and Princess Elena of Iridescent Scales took a seat in their smaller thrones.

 

“And my answer is no,” continued the Queen with nary a blink. Balinor sighed as Mordred gritted his teeth.

 

“Are you sure you know what we are about? My Queen, the surface-!”

 

“Has always been that way, has it not? Our losses pale in comparison to theirs. At the rate they go, with their inter-wars, the surface will eventually perish or at least reduce in numbers so much that they will pose no threat.”

 

“Eventually?” Mordred bit out. “They have caused much damage already. They invade our waters now that their lands are in such conditions. We must act before they do!”

 

Rina shook her head, radiating disappointment. “You repeat the hateful, misguided words of your father, King Mordred. We as a race are much more advanced than the surface will be for a long time. We are a higher race. Why must we lower ourselves to their level, when our time is better spent expanding our knowledge and forging discipline?”

 

“Rina,” called Balinor.

 

The Queen pursed her lips at him. “You, I’m most surprised to find here Balinor. Even I know your heirs would not condone such actions. Why participate in this foolish game?”

 

“This is no game, Rina, so called the _Clear Headed_ ,” said Mordred darkly. Gaius swallowed at seeing the young king lose his composure. “My father was unhinged, I will not deny it, but he was brilliant and revolutionary in certain aspects. The surface dwellers are a threat like no other and they must be eliminated, by whatever means necessary,” He closed in on the Queen, who stayed firm and proud. “If you will not give me what I want, I will put someone on the throne that **will**.”

 

Rina’s eyes widened. “Wha-?” She barely said, choking, as she looked down at the trident buried in her stomach. Mordred twisted it for good measure and she gasped in pain.

 

Balinor flinched before slamming the butt of his trident and expelling a force-push that slammed the few fishermen guards in the room. Elena’s cry for her mother was ignored, as Godwyn grabbed his daughter and pushed her behind him.

 

“I’d heard Fishermen were cowards, hiding behind so-called words of enlightenment. I’m disappointed at the truth of it. Perhaps, your future ruler will be better. After all, Atlantis was the moment I stepped up. This is the age of youth trumping over senile ideas. So long, my Queen.”

 

Mordred talked over the weakening struggles of Rina. Her trident lay forgotten on the floor, as her long tail tried unsuccessfully to tighten around her attacker. This was certainly not what everyone was expecting to happen, save Mordred probably. 

 

He removed his weapon harshly from her body and she fell. Then, he turned to the thrones, grabbing Rina’s trident and swimming towards the cowering pair of royals. Balinor remained, staring unseeing at the prone body of his old friend, as his magic kept the guards pressed to the walls.

 

Elena pushed around her father, facing Mordred and showing her sharp fangs aggressively. Godwyn took hold of her arms and kept her back.

 

“If you know what’s good for your father and your people, my dear, you will pledge your armies, meager as they are, to my cause. Now, swear it,” Mordred ordered, motioning threateningly to Godwyn without taking his eyes off Elena. She bristled but subsided before the cruel face of the king.

 

Elena gave one last look to the body of her mother, and frowned back at Mordred. “Fishermen will follow Atlantis and Xebel, against the surface world.” Her voice, softer and higher than her mother, chimed.

 

Mordred smiled charmingly and handed her Rina’s, now Elena’s, trident. “All hail the Queen.”

 

Gaius closed his eyes and bowed his head. If only...

 

He half-remembered the old tomes and engravings depicting the One True King’s struggles for his throne. Even then, as an adversary of fate, Mordred had been destined for a great many things. And he had accomplished some, both good and bad, for the people he ruled over.

 

But this time, those great things would be truly terrible in nature. To incite a war with a race that had grown more powerful in the ages following Atlantis’ Fall, on the mere whim of an unhinged late father and festering emotional wounds?

 

Yes, Mordred could have been something more than a name in a line of Kings. Yet, his recent actions would drive him further down a path of darkness from whence he would not recover.

 

Or, perhaps there was still time. Arthur had been known to prevail from worse circumstances, and Gaius’ Prince was not one to leave very well alone, much less give up on someone he now recognized as family.

 

Time would tell.

 

^~^~^~^

 

**Somewhere in the North Atlantic Ocean**

 

“So, how exactly are we going to do this?”

 

Gawain’s question echoed seconds before a muffled slap could be heard in the back.

 

“It’s a legitimate question!”

 

His following complain made everyone roll their eyes. Leon and Percival pressed and flipped switches in unison, setting their ship to autopilot before they turned their seats at the front to face their companions.

 

Gawain was still rubbing his head, glaring sullenly at Elyan who simply crossed his arms. They were both sitting on the side, facing towards the main console in the center of the room. Lancelot stood up from his seat across them, and walked to the console to fiddle with the controls. A holographic rendering of the outside appeared, hovering over the computer, before it zoomed out to display a map. Words in the map indicated their position, location readings and other nearby atlantean signals.

 

“We are far enough away from any outposts, and there has been no hails since we sailed. We are currently near what is known by humans as Western Sahara,” Lance reported, his eyes going swiftly over the console’s analysis of their surroundings.

 

Elyan perked up. “If I’m not mistaken, the Deserter Kingdom is in this direction.”

 

“That desolate place? Why would we be going that way?” asked Gawain, genuinely curious.

 

Face deadpan, Percy grabbed a stylus from somewhere and threw it with unerring accuracy at the loudmouth. Gawain yelped. “It used to be one of our mighty race’s great kingdoms. Show some respect.”

 

Elyan side-eyed the giant. “You’re only saying that because Merlin is not here to do it himself.”

 

Percy shrugged, unapologetic. “I serve his highness.”

 

Leon cleared his throat and the group turned to him immediately. “It was Gaius who suggested going in this direction. Whatever Arthur and Prince Emrys are doing, it is our mission to find them and offer support.”

 

Lance frowned, worried. “Leon, I don’t mean to be pessimistic, but we all heard the report from headquarters. Merlin’s watercraft crashed, and the explosion was massive. Are we sure…?” He hesitated, leaving the question open ended.

 

An uneasy silence fell over the ship. Leon gazed blankly outside the main windows, and everyone else pretended they weren’t studying him closely.

 

“Arthur is… resilient, if nothing else. Stubborn to a fault and inherently noble, even if he doesn’t like to show it. He would have found a way to survive, and made sure that Merlin did too.”

 

Percy nodded. “His highness is not so easy to kill either. Besides, they both survived Stepphenwolf because they fought together.”

 

Suddenly, Gawain laughed, startling his companions. “It’s a wonder they haven’t killed each other yet! Don’t you remember? For the longest time, any mention of _that brute_ could cause Merlin to go on a rant!”

 

Gawain’s amusement wasn’t unfounded. That was indeed Merlin’s reaction whenever he remembered Queen Ygraine’s eldest son. No one had had the courage to ask what the man had done to deserve such censure, but no one could deny either that Merlin became very passionate in his disapproval. It was both endearing and humorous, considering that said prince had never been so openly against any one person. He preferred to solve disputes with conversation rather than fists. If that failed, intimidation by way of his magic worked too. In the end, Merlin was not a violent person, just very humble and down-to-earth regardless of his power and position. Atlantis loved him.

 

Therefore, what was up with this golden prince, come out of nowhere, that had caused their delightful prince to turn unpleasant at his mere mention?

 

“Do you guys think that Merlin’s intense attitude towards Leon’s prince… could mean he’s attracted to him?” Lance’s question made Gawain choke, as Percy and Elyan exchanged bewildered looks. Leon looked to the ceiling, silently begging for patience and forbearance from the gods. Because if that was true, it was definitely not one-sided…

 

Gawain’s face went blank in thought, before his expression turned delighted then mischievous. It was as if the winter solstice celebration had come early.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” he breathed, overcome with relish. “I’m **not** going to let him live it down.”

 

With the man successfully entertained, Elyan raised an eyebrow and gazed at their unofficial leader. “Leon, what’s your opinion on this?”

 

Leon sighed with his whole body and his expression grew pained. “Arthur is very much interested in Prince Emrys, he just doesn’t know it yet. That isn’t a problem. But it will be, because he isn’t one to give up on things. And if his highness returns his favor…”

 

Percival was pensive for a moment, before he looked at Leon seriously. “Your prince, is he a worthwhile person?”

 

Leon’s lips quirked in a half-smile. “Worth my loyalty? Yes. I would lay down my life for him without hesitation. Why? Because he would kill me if I tried, and would also try to do it himself first, in my place.”

 

Elyan huffed in disbelief. “Weren’t you only childhood companions? You didn’t know him that long, did you?”

 

Leon’s history with Ygraine’s eldest was not known by anyone else outside their group and Gaius. But the advisor was the only one that truly knew the extent of their relationship by virtue of being there when their friendship formed. The others, Leon’s friends, were still citizens to a society that rejected Arthur before they even knew him, so Leon had always been careful to keep that part of himself hidden. 

 

It was no longer necessary. Arthur had his full trust and loyalty, from the moment he knelt before the prince and was tacitly accepted. If his friends couldn’t respect that, he would have no choice than to sever his ties with them, and the kingdom as well.

 

So Leon settled in his seat, and prepared to say his piece.

 

“Arthur and Mordred are night and day. While that serves as a happy balance when referring to the princesses of Xebel, in this case it’s about true nobility and virtue. Arthur is rough where Mordred is smooth, but he is also glaringly bright when confronted with the King’s darkness. Arthur is the type of person to respect all forms of life, head first into danger like a reckless fool, and wear his heart on his sleeve. He has firm convictions, he is strong and he makes mistakes but isn’t afraid to learn from them. Arthur also doesn’t think very good of himself. His opinion on his own actions is always low, and the Queen’s abandonment has always been a cloud over his spirit, even when he believed she would welcome him back in the kingdom. He was devastated when he discovered she had died, in spite of the resentment he kept in his heart. Arthur is not one to hold things against you, even if you deserve it. His straightforward nature will have him fight it out and then forgive.”

 

Leon took a deep breath, gazing around at the astonished looks from his friends before continuing. “Arthur is the definition of a King. He would make a magnificent King. Atlantis would be better with him on the throne, and had the circumstances been different Queen Ygraine would no doubt have ascended him instead of Mordred. I believe his destiny is to lead us into a greater future, with such promise not seen since the age of the gods. Poseidon himself must have blessed him, and I _saw_ all that, as a child, when I met Arthur and witnessed his kindness for all creatures big and small.”

 

Finally, he turned to Lance with a grimace. “If Prince Emrys favors Arthur, the way I saw my prince favor him, I suspect Mordred will have even more reason to kill him.”

 

Silence followed in the wake of Leon’s heartfelt speech. Without noticing, their opinions on that prince changed, and an itch to see Arthur’s brightness for themselves grew.

 

“He seems like a riot. I would like to take him out for a night of revelry,” said Gawain, smirking.

 

“If he is all that, I think he would deserve Merlin far more than the King,” added a thoughtful Lance.

 

Elyan hummed before commenting, “Such words from our noblest! But really, if Leon vouches for him, this prince must truly be something.”

 

Percival, once again, stared directly at Leon. “If he were on the throne, you would not hesitate to kneel. Would he make that good a King?”

 

Leon grinned. Not many things caused him to smile, lately, but imagining Arthur ruling Atlantis made his heart skip a beat. Prosperity, that’s all he could see in that future.

 

“He would make the _best_ King.”

 

A loud beat interrupted their conversation, as a blinking light appeared in the console. Seconds later, Leon’s communicator gave a shrill sound.

 

They all startled. Leon opened the message in his communicator just as Lance played the one in the console. The content in both was the same. Coordinates were relayed as well as instructions for all Elite knights to converge at whatever location the tracker stayed on for more than an hour, so long as it was close to the sea. The mission was to terminate the targets, and any witnesses if necessary. 

 

Leon’s sharp intake of breath sounded loud in the sudden silence. A tracker. A _tracker_. One of them must have it. They must also be unaware of it. This message had come from Valiant, for all Elite Knights and Elite vessels in active duty that may have Knights on board. That meant Mordred was pulling all the stops to kill his brother. And now they knew exactly where the pair was.

 

“Ok, so good news is they are alive?” Gawain’s comment sounded more like a question.

 

“Not for long, if this means what I think it means,” said Percival. 

 

Elyan whistled. “The whole Elite is going to hunt them down. That… is a lot of people. Trained people.”

 

Lance immediately took the coordinates and input them in their map. A blinking dot displayed, moving slowly across human land, heading for the Mediterranean Sea.

 

Leon turned his seat forward, and flipped a switch. “Buckle up. We have people to out-swim.”

 

^~^~^~^

 

**Somewhere in the Southern Ocean - Capital Neptunos, Kingdom of Xebel**

 

Morgana swam through the hallways in a daze.

 

After she had woken up that morning, she had promptly dismissed her handmaidens and retired to the Queen’s gardens. Fortunately, Hunith was spending the day helping in the city’s orphanage and Morgause had scheduled an entire day of training. The youngest princess was left on her own.

 

The gardens proved too colorful and cheerful for her mood, so Morgana took only one turn around the landscape before returning to the castle. Used to putting up a face of grace and tranquility, she wandered the different halls, lobbies, grand rooms and even the atrium with no one truly noticing her strange behavior. The castle attendants bowed in her presence, greeted her happily and wished her good health. She nodded imperiously and continued on her way.

 

Her long, loose black locks swayed with the current as she stood gazing blankly at the horizon. Her unconscious mind had directed her to the highest level in the castle, the citadel tower. Staring out without registering the view, Morgana kept replaying the bits and pieces of her dream.

 

For years now, she had predicted the outcome of old King Lot’s dark desires. Ygraine, Mordred, Merlin and his golden prince were all pieces of a puzzle that had been placed on the table by the mad king’s machinations, directly or indirectly. The final battle approached, and it would be a swift ending to the uncertain times that had befallen the Kingdom of Atlantis since the moment Ygraine was crowned and married.

 

All other underwater kingdoms had been affected too, much as they liked to deny it.

 

But the point was, Morgana had _seen_ that it would end with Merlin standing by the high throne, as it was meant to be, alongside a King no one else had predicted. An attractive rebel, a romantic prince, a gallant and spirited hero that was born to be the other half of Merlin’s soul.

 

So, why was fate showing her nightmares of separation, struggles, despair and heartbreak?

 

Something awakened these visions. Something that wasn’t there before. This was going to need all her mental capacity to unravel, because Poseidon be damned Morgana would not allow anything to taint her brother’s hard earned happiness.

 

Her eyes flashed golden for a second and she straightened her posture. Someone was coming.

 

The next moment she relaxed and turned to the archway framing the stairs that lead to the top of the tower. Funny, how their architects insisted on using land schemes when they were not needed in the buoyancy of the sea.

 

Morgause appeared, gloriously disheveled and highly tensed. Her body was rigid, her movements short and concise, and her hand unyielding around the staff of her spear. She had probably come straight from the training grounds. Her taut expression told Morgana that her sister may have heard the servants comment on her strange roaming.

 

If there was anyone in this world who knew her better than she knew herself, it was Morgause.

 

“Who do I have to kill?” was the terse question coming from Xebel’s heiress.

 

Morgana’s lips quirked in an involuntary smile. Her siblings were the only ones who could tame her morose behavior and turn it around with only a word.

 

“You just want an excuse.”

 

“I’m dying to spill some blood, no doubt about that. But you know what I meant.”

 

Morgana sighed. Indeed she did. “It seems this almost war of Mordred’s is only the beginning.”

 

“What,” came the deadpan response.

 

“Our favorite pair will undergo more trials soon after. A beast approaches and the high tide predicts the ocean will sever its ties with its wielder in order to return harmony to the world.”

 

There was a pause before a genuinely confused Morgause asked “ _What_?”.

 

Morgana pursed her lips, grabbed a hold of her sister’s spear and threw it hard towards the distant glare of the massive dome protecting Xebel all around. Her eyes flashed golden as the spear glowed far away before it struck, a sound like thunder reverberating in the city. The dome flashed into view before it slowly disappeared, and the people down on the ground levels as well as those driving in the far off highways paused for an eternal second before continuing with their lives. It was not the first time a royal was upset enough to strike at the one thing that would never break within the capital boundaries.

 

It did mean that most everybody would give a wide berth to the princesses for a while. No one would dare incite that inimitable anger on themselves.

 

For good measure, Morgana squeezed her fists and the city trembled. She held it for a moment before sighing in something like relief. Morgause let her, staring after her lost spear which was indubitably broken beyond repair now. Another one for the royal coffers, then. It seemed like their revenue for the last two decades was spent mostly in replacing the targets of emotional outbursts from the royals.

 

Morgana coughed lightly, and swept her hands down her skirts to remove imaginary dirt. Morgause smirked.

 

“Done now?”

 

“I am feeling better, yes.”

 

“Good. Can you translate your prophesy to regular atlantean?”

 

Morgana pouted. “You know that’s not how it works. I barely understand the things myself.”

 

Morgause rolled her eyes. “Take your best guest.”

 

Morgana cocked her head to the side, tapped a finger to her chin in thought then spread her palm in front of her and golden dust shone above it. The miniscule particles gathered and took the shape of a monster, an olden dragon that became a kraken-like creature before transforming back into a dragon.

 

Morgause gasped. “The karathen? It’s awakened?”

 

Morgana looked back at her sister grimly. “It already was. Merlin and his prince must deal with it in order to retrieve the lost trident. No, this is something else. Something older than that olden being.”

 

Morgause’s beautiful features twisted in anger. “Why now? Gods give us break! I just want my war to start so I can end it!”

 

Morgana laughed before her expression went unspeakably sad. “Atlantis and Xebel must have reached Fishermen by now. I fear the worst for that kingdom. Father… he is not in a right place, mentally. I think Mordred chose his time wisely when approaching him for an alliance.”

 

Morgause’s face turned grave. “There will be consequences to this, to us, in the upcoming conflict. High ones, even if there are no lives lost.”

 

Morgana nodded before staring down at the still swirling dust-creature in her palm. She crushed it in her fist before she looked back at her sister with determined eyes. 

 

“Whatever it takes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 14: Returning Adversaries
> 
> A recent mistake comes back to haunt Arthur and a King’s loyal dog preys on Merlin.


	14. Returning Adversaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A recent mistake comes back to haunt Arthur, and a King’s loyal dog preys on Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an FYI, I took liberties with the location in Sicily. Don’t put too much emphasis on that. Also, battle scenes are hard :(
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone reading this! I'm so happy you enjoy it!

~~~*~~~

 

**Erice, Sicily - Roman Personages Plaza**

 

The red hot discharge blew them all away from the edge of the cliff and further into the platform with a thunderous roar. Arthur hit the ground hard and rolled a few feet further. Stone debris from the destroyed statues and pillars rained on him.

 

He gritted his teeth against the pain radiating from his shoulder before it started healing. Normally, no matter how big an explosion, any hits he sustained from a detonation would only cause him discomfort or a slight soreness.

 

Which meant this was superhuman or atlantean in origin.

 

Merlin groaned from nearby and Arthur crawled closer to his prone body. His throat felt tight as he helped the prince sit up, until he confirmed his well being. Merlin appeared unhurt physically, but his eyes were dazed.

 

Coughs from further into the plaza reminded him that Leon and his companions had been blown away too. Thankfully, the tourists had escaped when the group of soldiers first appeared, so no one that was not atlantean had been caught in the blast.

 

“Leon?”

 

“Here!”

 

Arthur sighed in relief while he hugged Merlin to himself.

 

“And what are _we_ , **plankton**?!” yelled a voice from near his old friend, obviously one of the soldiers he had brought with him.

 

“ _Shut_ it, Gawain, I can barely hear my own thoughts!”

 

“Can you guys do this later? I have a raging headache.”

 

“Is Merlin alright?!”

 

“Soldiers!” Leon hollered. “Sound off, get your bearings and protect the princes!”

 

One by one the men confirmed their position and status, but the moment Arthur saw a glimpse of white and red armor getting closer to him and his companion, another blast hit the remaining sculptures.

 

Arthur threw himself on top of Merlin and covered him the best he could.

 

It had been a missile, launched from the sea. It destroyed most of the structures on the platform. Chances were that they were the target and that the projectiles would keep coming.

 

Arthur took the time to be grateful that they had found their heading before Romulus was destroyed. Then he recalled that the bottle had still been in the statue and he cursed out loud.

 

He scrambled up, bringing a more aware Merlin with him. The prince took a hold of Arthur’s hand and squeezed.

 

Arthur breathed easier.

 

Heavy thuds sounded ahead. Several armored bodies hovering from the sea came down in front of them and Arthur bared his teeth.

 

He had the feeling that these red soldiers would not be as friendly as Leon and his team.

 

Another figure in a stylish black armor, very different to the atlantean designs, landed before the pair and a shiver went down Arthur’s spine.

 

“Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men!”

 

The guttural voice recited ominously as it stepped closer. Arthur felt an instant of confusion at the Lovecraft quote before an increasingly louder beat signaled that something was charging.

 

He pushed Merlin away before a searing hot energy beam shot from the black figure’s helmet. It blasted Arthur back through building walls and pillars until he landed painfully some levels down.

 

He vaguely registered Merlin calling out his name in a panic before being cutoff.

 

His senses were overwhelmed with increasing Pain until his nerve endings peaked. Arthur’s breathing seized for a scary second from the pure agony. Then, it slowly declined and he gasped.

 

Whatever core it was that powered the man’s weapon, it packed a hell of a punch.

 

Arthur’s shirt and jacket had burned off at his chest, and his skin sizzled before blistering. But, that’s where it stopped. He did not heal past that and a sense of doom swept over him.

 

A heavy thud sounded from in front of him as the black armored man landed.

 

Alright, it seemed this one was Arthur’s. Just as well, the others were atlantean so Merlin would have no problem handling them. This guy on the other hand seemed bitterly driven and much more dangerous.

 

“No place to run now, Aquaman. I am Black Manta and you owe me death!”

 

Huh, apparently vindictive and resentful too. Joy. Arthur did not look forward to this.

 

“Before we continue, mind jogging my memory?” asked Arthur, forcing himself to his feet and trying to shake off the numbness in his limbs.

 

The red crystals doubling as eyes on the guy’s helmet had a malevolent shine to them.

 

The man flexed both his arms and from his armored wrists two swords sprung out. He studied them for a moment, before crouching into a fighting stance and aiming both swords at Arthur.

 

“Would this suffice?” he asked, the helmet’s distorting mechanical echo doing nothing to hide the hostility in his voice.

 

Arthur swallowed, raising his fists rigidly. His heart pounded and sweat traveled down his spine.

 

This man was the one from the submarine. The pirate, whose father Arthur had condemned in a moment of anger and weakness. He, who had been hailed a hero, had let someone die because he had taken it upon himself to deliver justice from his own judgement.

 

What would his father think? His mother?... Merlin?

 

The distraction cost him, as Alvarr (that was his name; he never forgot it) launched through the space between them to swing the swords at Arthur. It was the same move he had pulled back in the submarine, and Arthur automatically raised the heel of his palm to parry the downwards swing while letting the upwards one reach his side.

 

Sharp, stinging pain snapped him from his thoughts as the sword cut through his side until it reached his ribs. He gasped.

 

“How do you like my atlantean steel?” said Alvarr, grimly victorious as he cruelly yanked the sword out, twisting it on the way.

 

Arthur’s arm came down to hold his side which was bleeding heavily. His right arm faltered, and the other sword finished the swing down to his shoulder. Alvarr laughed triumphantly.

 

Suddenly, twin lasers were heard from behind Alvarr and the black armor jerked. Arthur pushed the sword out of his shoulder as a white armored guard closed in to engage his opponent.

 

Arthur staggered back but a second guard was there to offer support.

 

“Who-?”

 

“Easy there. Leon would never forgive us if we let his Prince get his ass kicked,” the man said, with a very pleasant voice. His dark skin could barely be made out through the bluish glow of the protective helmet. Arthur remembered then that not all atlanteans could breathe on the surface.

 

Resounding clashes to the side called their attention back to the fight. The white armor was holding his own against the black, as both combatants thrust their swords at each other. Alvarr had atlantean steel, but the other man was using a faintly glowing energy sword. Regardless, the weapons clanged when they met.

 

“That’s our Lance, right there. Best sword fighter in the fleet,” said the atlantean guard besides Arthur, while grabbing his arm and placing it around his shoulder. “I’m Elyan, by the way.” 

 

The blond let himself be led away, shooting looks over his shoulder to keep an eye on the fight.

 

Lance performed an unexpected twist with his sword that broke off one of Alvarr’s from his wrist. Elyan paused, probably thinking that his friend had it in the bag, but Arthur tensed.

 

A charging beat could be heard from Alvarr’s helmet.

 

“Watch out! Don’t let him-!”

 

But it was too late. The energy beam crashed against Lance and sent him flying. His armored chest sparked, but at least his helmet was intact. He hit a wall and went through it, disappearing on the other side.

 

Alvarr turned around and snarled. Arthur pushed off from Elyan who hoisted his rifle and started firing at the approaching madman.

 

The helmet charged another beam so Arthur ran across towards Alvarr, making Elyan abruptly cease his shooting while cursing out loud. The blond rammed into his opponent, making the helmet’s laser go wide.

 

Alvarr did not stop, however, disengaging the sword he had left off his wrist and turning it around to stab it into Arthur’s back.

 

He cried out.

 

Elyan closed in and punched Alvarr, making him step back. Arthur gritted his teeth and jerked the sword out, throwing it away.

 

It seemed the laser was not all the armor could charge for. A shorter beat was heard before Alvarr dug his fist into Elyan’s stomach, who doubled over with a gasp. The other black armored fist hit his white helmet and caused a crack.

 

Arthur’s breathing hitched before he frowned. That was enough. Alvarr was here for him, so he would not allow anyone else to get hurt.

 

Aquaman grabbed a hold of Alvarr’s wrist before the man could punch Elyan’s helmet again. The black armored man turned to look at him. They glared at each other.

 

“Your fight is with me,” he announced before he punched Alvarr’s vulnerable neck and made him choke. 

 

Alvarr tried to lunge at him, but Arthur sprinted away, took a leap and jumped from the cliff side into the town below. 

 

Hopefully he could keep his hunter away from innocent people until he reached the coast. Aquaman would fight better on the shore without anyone around.

 

The roar of an engine sounded above. Black Manta flew overhead before firing a harpoon towards him.

 

Aquaman hit the roof of a series of buildings in the town, rolled and managed to miss getting impaled by the projectile. He ran.

 

Alvarr followed closely and, during one of Arthur’s leaps, he crashed against him and sent him flying towards a square. A busy square.

 

People screamed and panicked, running around and getting in the way.

 

Aquaman stood, glaring at Black Manta who landed a few feet ahead. The people were now giving them a wide berth.

 

A girl cried out behind Arthur as Alvarr prepared to fire another harpoon. He swallowed. If he dodged, she could get hurt. He braced himself.

 

The projectile launched and Aquaman twisted in place, grabbing hold of it before it buried itself in his chest. It sparked red before an electric shock traveled over him. He bit his tongue to avoid making a sound.

 

The girl stopped crying abruptly, and Arthur saw from the corner of his eye a white armored guard taking her away from the scene. A second one was hurriedly directing the remaining people away.

 

Oh, good. Lance and Elyan were alright. Time to finish it then.

 

Aquaman tugged hard on the harpoon which jerked Black Manta closer. Rifle lasers fired from behind him, as the two atlanteans aimed at the red eyes of the black helmet to keep it occupied. The blond crouched and delivered a strong punch to the guy’s throat again and another one to his guts.

 

Alvarr doubled over. Arthur dug his elbow on the spine of his suit, disengaging it from the helmet. The red glow powered down.

 

“I asked you to not make a habit of meeting each other,” he said before he crushed the helmet’s sides in, cracking the red crystals. He stopped before he reached Alvarr’s head.

 

“Arthur, watch out!” Someone cried out, before a missile hurled towards them from somewhere to the side.

 

He jumped away but was caught in the blast, as it exploded on Alvarr and sent him flying off to the sea rocks below. Arthur rolled to a painful stop, ears ringing and body throbbing.

 

And the day had started so nice, his addled mind mused.

 

“You bastard!” the same someone from before yelled, followed by indiscriminate shooting. Arthur could barely focus on his dirty hands, let alone the blurry images flashing around. His head pounded.

 

Then, a rumble was heard before an out-of-nowhere wave washed over everything in sight. A now soaking wet Arthur blinked confusedly, until someone turned him around to lay on his back and a gentle hand cupped his cheek. Merlin’s lovely visage blocked the overhead sun, as he frowned down at Arthur.

 

The blond seriously loved that view. What he would not give to have it forever...

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Erice, Sicily - Roman Personages Plaza**

 

Merlin felt his heart stop for a second when the familiar red glow on that energy beam hit Arthur square in the chest and blasted him away.

 

What was Mordred _thinking_ , letting that core design out? It was still in the unstable stages of initial design and it could seriously hurt, no matter how strong an atlantean one was.

 

“ **Arthur**!” The anguished yell tore from his throat, almost unconsciously, as he saw the blond crashing through stone walls before going out of sight.

 

That thing had hit his _chest_ , Arthur must be in _agony_ , Poseidon willing he would be alright but Merlin needed to get to him _fast_. He did not know what he would do if something serious happened to Arthur… probably hunt down the entire pantheon for some divine help.

 

Merlin sprinted after Arthur but scrambled to a stop when an Elite Knight got in his way.

 

Another one brandished a sword to the prince’s neck and Merlin was forced to take a few steps back. Abruptly, he noticed that he was surrounded by Mordred’s best.

 

Including his least favorite person in the world.

 

(In the distance, the unfamiliar black armored man flew off to chase after Arthur.)

 

Captain Valiant walked closer until he was in Merlin’s face. There was a disturbingly triumphant grin on his lips. Merlin took another step back, more concerned with getting away from the captain than the sword at his neck.

 

“Valiant,” Merlin greeted, coldly. “It would be best if you stand down now.” 

 

However politely he phrased it, it was unmistakably an order. Valiant’s grin grew even as his eyes darkened in anger.

 

“That’s Captain Valiant to you,” he growled, before clearing his throat. “Prince Emrys of Xebel, you are charged with high treason by the atlantean throne. Do you have anything _clever_ to say to that?”

 

Merlin stilled. Charged, he had said. Also, the hostility displayed by the blank faced knights surrounding him gave him another hint. They were not there to arrest him.

 

They were there to end him.

 

Merlin swallowed. Would Mordred truly be capable of that? Of ordering his execution just like that? He was not even allowing him a trial, however much it would be made a mockery of.

 

Was this evidence of how far his old friend had fallen? Could Merlin had done anything different to avoid Mordred’s descent into madness?

 

Those questions would have to remain unanswered, as Valiant grew tired of waiting and made a gesture to his guards. Merlin would get no mercy from them.

 

They closed in slowly on the young prince, raising their swords in a threatening manner. They were wise to be wary, a sorcerer was never harmless nor unarmed. And he had already shown his powerful abilities before, even if no one knew the true extent of them.

 

Merlin exhaled, letting his limbs relax. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he would have to hurt them in order to reach Arthur.

 

If he managed to punch Valiant’s smug face in the meantime, that would be a bonus.

 

Shots fired from somewhere off to the side, hitting three guards on the back. Merlin took the chance to grab the sword at his neck and yanked it out of the soldier’s hold. He kicked him away, and slashed at Valiant’s thigh to stop his advance.

 

Merlin leapt over another two guards charging at him, who could not stop in time and ended up crashing with their captain.

 

The energy lasers coming from behind wrecked pillars and walls never ceased, aiming at the knights scrambling to return fire.

 

Merlin twisted out of the way of a stray shot, but the distraction got him unbalanced and someone yanked at his jacket from behind. He looked over his shoulder to find a red armor about to slice at him.

 

Before he could, however, the soldier was knocked out with the butt of a rifle. When he dropped, the bulky red armor standing behind - _Leon_ was _fine_ , thank the Gods, which meant the shooting from the wreckage were the others…? - aimed at Merlin purposely.

 

Leon’s face through the gleaming watery casing of his helmet was stern, but the tick in his jaw denoted impatience. He, too, obviously wanted to chase after Arthur.

 

Merlin raised his hands and complied with the knight’s silent command. Calmly, he turned around to face an irate Valiant who had finally gotten free of the soldier pile Merlin had buried him in.

 

The giant, slimy excuse for a man stalked towards the prince, who simply straightened his posture and gazed coldly back, the perfect picture of a noble very much done with the situation.

 

“You just wait, _traitor_ , I will punish you accordingly, for my King,” said the captain with a snarl twisting his features. Hearing that made a shudder crawl up Merlin’s spine.

 

Valiant turned to the soldier keeping Merlin docile, and his face went impossibly angrier.

 

“ _What_ are _you_ doing here, Leon?”

 

Leon did not blink at the tone, just hefted his rifle higher on Merlin’s back and readied his weapon. “I am merely following the orders sent to me by Advisor Gaius, after the Colosseum challenge, Captain. When I reached here and saw you engaging in combat, I decided to offer my aid.”

 

Valiant’s face went worryingly blank. Merlin silently studied him and the group of knights gathering at his back. Half of them immediately aimed at the pair, while the other half hesitated. He was understandably their target, but Leon?

 

“Following orders, you say? Orders that **I** didn’t assign?” Valiant hissed, sounding dangerously at the end of his patience.

 

Leon’s voice didn’t waver. “I apologize if it seems out of line, Captain, but when a royal advisor gives an order, a Knight must follow.”

 

Valiant gritted his teeth. “ _Your King_ gives the orders that must be followed.”

 

“A royal advisor is the voice of the King. Their orders come from his command.”

 

Valiant’s fury grew palpable.

 

Merlin closed his eyes, centered himself, and let power run through his veins.

 

Unlike other times, his magic did not waver between natural and aquakinesis within him. There was no divide, they were both one and it felt _good_. To Merlin, it was like…

 

...like meeting Arthur had unlocked something. 

 

Like spending time with Arthur balanced something in Merlin.

 

Like being by Arthur’s side gave Merlin new purpose.

 

Ridiculous.

 

And yet...

 

Arthur wasn’t there right now, and his magic grew restless. Merlin didn’t just want to feel good anymore, he wanted to feel _right_.

 

Valiant raised a clenched fist by his head, a signal to hold. He glared at Leon, his eyes gleaming maniacally.

 

“We both know that Gaius carries no true allegiance to our King. Just as we both know that your part in this debacle has earned you death. I promise it will be quick, little noble boy.” Valiant mocked, with relish, as he brought down his fist as a signal to fire.

 

Leon tensed, Merlin took a deep breath and Valiant cackled, before shots fired.

 

The two red knights at each end of the gathered semi-circle dropped as two white armored soldiers burst from their hiding places. Leon twisted his aim from Merlin’s back to Valiant, squeezing the trigger and clipping him in the shoulder.

 

Merlin raised his hands and a shockwave of air and sound exploded outwards, sending all but his allies flying back and over the cliff side. His eyes burned gold as he mentally demanded the group go down, down, down…

 

“Prince Emrys!” Leon yelled, gripping Merlin’s shoulder tight and pulling him from the magic.

 

“Good Gods, we are doomed!” cried Gawain next, watching over the cliff in disbelief with both hands cupping his cheeks in mock despair. “We’ve broken so many laws!”

 

“Hadn’t you already?” asked Percival, sarcastically, as he posted himself by Merlin’s other side. “Besides, they were going to hurt Merlin and Leon.”

 

“Well, now they are going to _hurt_ us too, brawn for brains!”

 

“... I resent that.”

 

“Quiet, both of you,” ordered Leon severely before turning back to Merlin who, until that point, had been staring at his hands blankly. “Are you alright, Your Highness?”

 

Merlin blinked. “Gawain is right,” he answered instead, causing Percy to start and Gawain to glance at him, then do a double take. “They won’t be merciful any longer.”

 

“It’s not like they were merciful to begin with, princeling,” said Gawain reasonably.

 

Merlin shot him a look. “They were not to _me_. Now, they will not be to _you_ either.”

 

“Come, we must take you away from here and then go after Arthur,” said Leon but the sound of multiple engines ahead halted their retreat.

 

All the red knights, with Valiant at their center, appeared over the cliff. Their armors bore scratches and dings, but they were overall no worse for wear.

 

“You should have hit them harder, Merlin!” hissed Gawain.

 

“You are welcome to do it next time, Gawain,” muttered Merlin.

 

“Ah, my headache is back,” commented Percy inanely.

 

Leon opted to silently charge his weapon and aim properly.

 

“Regardless of your royal status,” announced Valiant, serious and very pissed off. “For showing contempt for my King’s decree, you are thus sentenced to death. You, Prince Emrys, and all those who aid you.”

 

“I surrender?”

 

“Shut up, Gawain!” The other three reprimanded at the same time.

 

Valiant gave his signal and all the opposing knights started firing.

 

“RUN!” yelled Leon, firing back in an attempt at covering their escape.

 

They bolted, as concrete exploded around them and rocky debris rained everywhere. 

 

Merlin’s heart throbbed again, as it had been doing on and off since Arthur had been blasted away. It felt like the dollop-head kept getting hurt the longer he was on his own.

 

Merlin ran off in a certain direction, letting the feel of Arthur guide him. The others followed, as half the knights landed to chase them on foot and the other half flew overhead.

 

“Merlin, a little help would be very appreciated!” exclaimed Gawain, in the midst of jumping over a fallen column. 

 

The group dove through a hole in a wall and dropped a level. Immediately after, huge chunks of said wall were blasted off. They dodged.

 

“Your Highness!” called Percival, polite to the end. “Maybe you should consider Gawain’s idea?!”

 

An explosion at their back threw them off balance, and a hot piece of metal clipped Merlin in the shoulder. He hissed as the heat burned through his jacket and shirt.

 

He gasped for breath, as Leon scrambled to his side, fell to his knees and opened an energy shield over him. Percival and Gawain ducked under seconds later.

 

“Prince Emrys,” said Leon, gritting his teeth with the effort of holding back the extensive laser fire targeting his shield. “Why are you hesitating? Is there something wrong?”

 

Merlin snarled before he pounded his fists into the ground, eyes blazing gold. Another shockwave rushed from the group’s vicinity as the knights on foot were thrown away hard and the ones in the sky were twisted off course.

 

“I cannot-! Arthur is-!” It was like the words were swallowed by the feeling, the rock stuck in his throat. It was worry, and desperation, and _something else_ that robbed him of breath when he thought of his simple-headed, aggravating, gorgeous prince.

 

He could barely concentrate with his magic clamoring to 

 

Go. To. Arthur.

 

“I mean, really, all that power for-?”

 

“Gawain, Poseidon willing, you will _not_ finish that-”

 

“Merlin!” called Leon again, over the squabbling between Percy and Gawain. Merlin looked at him. “Go to him! Go to Arthur, we will follow!”

 

Merlin blinked, then nodded. He glanced around until he saw another drop, a side cliff overlooking the town underneath. His eyes burned.

 

“Don’t hesitate,” Merlin ordered, before he sprinted from under the shield and jumped over the ledge. The others gaped for a moment, before Leon deactivated his core and followed, Gawain and Percival dogging his steps.

 

They jumped. They fell.

 

Wind rushed around them, causing loud static in the ear pieces of their helmets. They pulled their limbs close, preparing for the impact of slamming into the tiled roofs of the houses underneath, when all of a sudden they slowed.

 

Their descent became a controlled hover, leading them to stable surfaces until they stepped on them. The grip of magic around them left, their breaths whooshing out in surprise.

 

They looked up to find Merlin a few steps ahead, eyes closed and head tilted. He pointed off to the side abruptly.

 

“That way,” he said, preparing to run, when a sword flew out of nowhere and dug to the hilt in front of him.

 

Gawain and Percival turned around, hoisting their rifles, and Leon brandished his sword for the first time in the fight.

 

Valiant fell to his knees on the roof, barring the way Merlin wanted to go. He stood up slowly, taking out a second sword and pointing it at the prince.

 

“No more games, Your Highness.”

 

Valiant lunged. Merlin stepped back. Leon pushed forward.

 

Two swords clashed, their energies surging and sparking.

 

Valiant grinned toothily, malice dripping from every pore. “Guess it’s you and me, then. Try to keep up.”

 

Leon glared, fed up with the beast facing him. “Valiant, I think it’s time you shut up.”

 

They swung again, and the battle was on. Merlin frowned, wanting to help but fearing that he would wound Leon instead. Thumps around them indicated the other knights joined the captain, as Gawain and Percy rushed to him.

 

The trio pressed their backs against each other. Blasts were exchanged between both groups, and Merlin waved a hand, guiding some of the opposing shots towards their own comrades.

 

“Come on, Leon! All this, for a good-for-nothing surface dwelling half-breed? You _know_ that’s who the traitor aids. They are disgustingly chummy with each other.”

 

A sizzling strike. Another parry.

 

“His _name_ is **Arthur**.”

 

The resonating clang meant they were hitting so hard that the metal core of the swords touched.

 

“Arthur, is it? Who cares! He appears out of nowhere, _attempts_ to steal the crown from **my King** , and decides to steal the royal bitch in consolation. You know what that is? **Pathetic**.”

 

“Prince Arthur, **my Prince** , would be _twice_ the King than Mordred could ever be. You are the one who’s pathetic, for being _blind_ to his _follies_.”

 

Merlin shuddered. The cord squeezing his heart went slack as Arthur gained the upper hand in his own fight, managing to not get hurt so often in so little time...

 

Wait, Arthur!

 

He could see him now. The yells between Valiant and Leon, as well as his own battle against the elite knights had distracted him. They had all steadily moved closer to the main plaza of the town, where Elyan and Lancelot were aiding Arthur against the black armored man from before.

 

“So that’s how it is? Well, I see now where your true loyalties lie. How amusing. Lucky for you, this has been charging all this time. I think I might get two projectiles back to back. Wanna see?”

 

Merlin’s stomach dropped, as a few knights turned to fire at Leon, making him disengage from Valiant. The captain reached over his shoulder, and a hidden compartment in the bulky armor around his core engine released a small canon.

 

The size made it no less deadly. It aimed at Arthur.

 

“No!” Merlin gasped.

 

“Arthur, watch out!” Leon screamed.

 

Valiant fired, and Merlin could only watch as the missile flew unerringly towards Arthur.

 

Who managed to jump aside in time, thank the gods!

 

The resulting explosion rocked their surroundings. Merlin wobbled in place, before a sudden shove made his world tilt. He hit the roof, as the second missile passed him by, striking the white armored soldier that had pushed him away.

 

“Gawain!” Percival yelled, as their friend was thrown over the side of the roof, into a building. The missile exploded, thrusting Gawain’s motionless body through the wall and cracking the nearby supports.

 

“You bastard!” Leon shouted at Valiant, trying to reach him with his sword held high but...

 

… Merlin’s world focused on that hole on the wall.

 

Gawain had pushed him away.

 

Gawain had flown head first into a building.

 

Gawain’s helmet had fractured then broken, spilling precious life giving water everywhere.

 

Gawain could not breathe on the surface.

 

Merlin howled, a primal scream tearing from his throat as his magic was brought to bear. His eyes glowed fiercely, as a massive wave rushed over all the way from the shore to sweep everything in its path. All the red armored enemies were shoved against any nearby surfaces, as the water pressure made fissures on their own helmets.

 

Merlin growled as he turned to Valiant, who rather than being flung away had been pushed down to the roof. The water receded from around him into a spout, and icicles formed above him. Valiant screamed as the sharp and pointy weapons made from Merlin’s magic fell, piercing him in place on each arm and leg.

 

One more hovered over his faceplate, glinting against the crystal keeping the water in his helmet. Valiant swallowed, cried out and blubbered pathetically.

 

Merlin did not care. At least, until a hand on his shoulder called him back to the present. He shivered, dropping his hold on the massive wave still keeping his enemies away. The water lost shape, spilling everywhere.

 

Leon kept his trembling hand on Merlin’s shoulder until the glow of sorcery receded from his blue eyes.

 

The knight cleared his throat. “Your Highness?”

 

“Gawain?” Merlin sobbed.

 

“I got him!” answered Percival. Leon and Merlin turned their heads sharply, watching as the soldier carried back their friend over his shoulder. In the distance, the building collapsed on itself, the golden aura of magic still fading from the structure.

 

Had Merlin unconsciously held the supports so Gawain wouldn’t be crushed? Without noticing?

 

But, more urgent was the fact that Gawain’s face was free of a helmet. No water, no oxygen.

 

And yet, he seemed to be breathing?

 

“What?” voiced Leon, to which Percival shrugged, unwilling to question their good fortune.

 

“Guys!” Elyan called from the ground. They all looked at him and Lance, who was holding his side with a pained grimace. “Can someone look over Arthur?”

 

Merlin’s heart climbed to his throat. He dashed towards the glint of golden locks lying face down near the plaza’s ledge, jumping from the roof and rolling with the fall. He slid to his knees when he reached Arthur and turned the man gently on his back.

 

Merlin studied the bruised and bloody features, letting out a shuddering breath at feeling the strong pulse in Arthur’s neck, then he cupped his cheek tenderly.

 

Arthur’s eyes fluttered open and blinked dazedly into Merlin’s. He smiled a dopey smile, which caused an answering one from Merlin, before he fainted.

 

Merlin sighed. 

 

Arthur was unbelievably hardy. And Merlin?

 

He was apparently, deeply, helplessly gone on the man. Poseidon help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 15: To The Sea of Monsters
> 
> Discoveries and self-reflections happen before and after heading towards a long devolved kingdom and its horrors.


	15. To The Sea of Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discoveries and self-reflections happen before and after heading towards a long devolved kingdom and its horrors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY!  
> It completely slipped my mind to update, which is silly because I practically did nothing this past weekend... (I've recently become obsessed -and thus distracted- with The King's Avatar, anyone? no? just me? >.>)  
> ANYWAYS, this is late but I hope you enjoy it!

~*~*~*~

 

**Erice, Sicily - Main Church Plaza**

 

Merlin snapped out of his thoughts when Leon dropped to his knees beside them. The knight helped him prop Arthur up, and Merlin leaned against the nearest wall, hugging the blond to himself.

 

Leon took out a scanning device and swept it over the two princes. He silently read the results, then sighed in relief.

 

Merlin looked over Leon’s shoulder at an approaching Percival, who let down a still unconscious Gawain to rest on the sorcerer’s other side. Gawain looked fine, if slightly bruised, but it was still disconcerting to see him breathe normally without a protective helmet on.

 

Merlin would question him tirelessly later.

 

Elyan and Lance walked to the group then. The former had tended to the later’s armor, sealing the cracks and breaks with the hardening gel soldier’s often carried on hand when venturing to the surface.

 

Elyan offered the container to Percival, who shook his head. Him and Leon were the least hurt of the group. Everyone else would have to wait for their healing factor to take care of their physical wounds. Medical kits could not be used in the surface, and they were all tired and weary of further attacks to risk returning underwater.

 

They sat facing the princes and Gawain.

 

“What are we going to do with them?” Elyan asked, breaking the solemn silence while pointing over his shoulder. Some moaning could be heard over the roofs of the nearby buildings Merlin and the others had been fighting on.

 

That’s right. Valiant and his elite subordinates were still around.

 

“Will they be moving any time soon?” followed up Lance, frowning worriedly.

 

Percival chuckled. “Merlin did a number on them. Their armors are locked down in hardening mode to prevent their water from escaping and their wounds from getting worse.”

 

Merlin was surprised. He **had** pushed them all away rather forcefully. He remembered pressuring the water tremendously; no wonder there was no one attacking them anymore.

 

“Elite knights’ armors have emergency hardening gel pockets. It’s part of their functions, so they don’t need to carry extras unlike the lower ranks,” Leon explained at Lance’s questioning look.

 

Elyan huffed. “Convenient and pretentious. Why hasn’t that function been offered to everyone else?”

 

“Politics,” Percy said dryly.

 

“Highborns,” Lance added, before shooting a quick look Gawain’s way.

 

“Mordred,” answered Merlin darkly, and the other’s quieted. “How did he...they find us? And for that matter, you guys?”

 

Leon started, before quickly fiddling with his communicator and showing Merlin the screen and the blinking dot announcing their current position on the mapping feature.

 

Merlin’s eyes widened.

 

“I tried to tell you both,” Leon said, a troubled look washing over his features. “You were being tracked, even before your escape from the Colosseum. King Mordred provided the link to all Elite knights, in order to hunt you down. My armor picked it up too, and we tried to reach you before everyone else when I realized what it meant.”

 

Merlin pushed Arthur away gently and Leon leaned forward to support him. 

 

While his hands desperately searched his body, Merlin tried to remember everything he had been wearing as well as anything that Mordred had done before the combat of Kings. Could it be that Mordred had tagged him before that? No, impossible. If he had known of Merlin’s involvement in Arthur’s appearance within the kingdom, he would have acted swiftly to crush their plans.

 

Merlin gasped.

 

He had shed all his finery for his armor before going to rescue Arthur. The only things he still had which had been on him when meeting Mordred were his barrettes - xebellian crown jewels that no one but the xebellian royals handled - and…

 

He looked at his wrist, where _Ygraine’s_ golden cuff sat after Mordred gifted it to him. The innocuous pearl glinted. 

 

Merlin flushed before going pale.

 

Without hesitation, he slammed the pearl to the ground, breaking it. 

 

Immediately after, the blinking dot in Leon’s tracker disappeared and Merlin felt like screaming. Of all the rotten, misguided, hurtful things Mordred had done over the years, _using_ Ygraine’s name was…

 

“Merlin?” called Lance, tentatively. 

 

Merlin took a deep breath but, before he could reassure them, Arthur’s pained moan derailed his thoughts. He turned to the blond still in Leon’s hands and studied him. Arthur had gone pale and slightly sweaty, the blistering wound on his naked chest still red and radiating warm.

 

“We need to treat this,” he said, worrying his lip while gently tracing the edges of the injury.

 

“It’s not healing,” observed Percy. 

 

Elyan pushed closer and nodded reluctantly before saying “He’s right. The prince’s healing is not working. But I have no idea how-”

 

“That core design, the one the black armored man used,” interrupted Merlin, now holding his palm to Arthur’s forehead. “It was still in the design phase, but already it showed dangerous promise in burning atlantean beings. Energy swords can cut us, yes, and the energy rifles can hurt if aimed properly, but searing with a continuous and incremental burning is not something easily done to us.”

 

“Damn Valiant, providing an experimental weapon to an unknown for this,” Leon cursed, glaring towards the roofs and the helpless knights still located there.

 

“You mean damn Mordred,” was heard from a very hoarse yet welcome voice.

 

“Gawain!” 

 

Everyone exclaimed before they scrambled to said man with the exception of Merlin, Leon and the still unconscious Arthur.

 

Gawain groaned, rubbing his head before grinning at them. His expression went from impish to confused to horrified as his hands groped around his head for the missing protection of his helmet. He gulped.

 

Percy and Elyan placed one hand at each of Gawain’s shoulders, and Lance patted one of his knees awkwardly. When Merlin cleared his throat loudly, they all glanced back at him. Gawain scratched the back of his head nervously, as Merlin raised an eyebrow at him slowly.

 

“Your Highness,” called Leon before motioning at Arthur. “We should treat him first.”

 

Merlin pursed his lips. “Elyan, Lance, I have some of Gaius’ cure all potion but I need some more ingredients. Please, go underwater and find them for me. Percy, Leon, secure the knights before they recover anymore, and be careful with Valiant as his wounds will be more extensive.”

 

They all nodded. Gawain raised a hand sheepishly. “And me?”

 

Merlin sent him an unimpressed look. “You sit there and look pretty, and keep this dollophead from falling sideways.”

 

The group moved away to do their tasks, quickly and efficiently. Merlin crouched in front of Gawain to dab one of Gaius’ smelly poultices on his bruised chest, having requested he remove his armor’s chestplate. He also pressed some to Gawain’s head and the big bump at its back, to which said ninny protested loudly, crying about his hair.

 

Elyan returned first, bringing with him Merlin’s requested items. He quickly mixed them within another of Gaius’ potions, this one only for emergency use. When finished, Merlin poured it inside Arthur’s mouth, gently massaging his throat to entice him to swallow.

 

Lance carried some algae over next. Merlin ripped off the remainings of Arthur’s shirt (Elyan swatted the back of Gawain’s head, making him whine in pain, before Gawain could make a lecherous comment) and covered his chest with the poultice and the algae. He did it to his arms and back as well, before using seaweed to bandage everything with Lance’s help.

 

That should help fight the plasma’s engineered attribute to shut down an atlantean’s healing. If there was anything that could cure such a wound, Gaius’ genius would.

 

“So, what did I miss?” asked Gawain, watching as Percival and Leon carefully brought down the Elite knights from the roofs. Half of them were still unconscious while the other half was groaning in pain. None could move, however, as their armors were locked down further after Leon fiddled with the motherboards.

 

Merlin hummed, eyeing the proceedings for a moment before returning his attention to Arthur. Once his wounds were treated, Merlin had laid him down and pillowed his head on his lap. He carded a hand through blond locks absentmindedly, studying Arthur’s breathing intently.

 

“Merlin went epic on their asses,” answered Elyan instead. “I’m actually surprised that all of them survived.”

 

“Even Valiant, who tried his best to kill us all,” added Lance, while cleaning his sword.

 

“I know he was, Lance, I was there for most of it,” said an unimpressed Gawain. “Why did he survive, considering his wounds compared to the others?”

 

“Because I tried my best not to kill _him_ , everyone else was an afterthought,” piped in Merlin, annoyed at the subject of the conversation. Valiant deserved what he got and more, but never death. Merlin was no executioner.

 

The soldiers quieted for a second, before Elyan coughed. “Merlin kinda stabbed him, umm, in each limb.”

 

“And he cried shamefully through the whole ordeal,” said Percival, walking back to the group with Leon. They sat down in a loose circle.

 

“Wouldn’t you, when subjected to Merlin’s golden gaze?” joked Elyan. Merlin frowned and Lance elbowed his friend and hissed in reprimand.

 

“It’s alright, Merlin,” exclaimed Gawain, patting Merlin’s back hard on purpose. “Nobody really likes him anyway. I doubt Valiant will get much sympathy.”

 

Leon cleared his throat. “Your Highness, the fallen knights have been secured. What is our next step?”

 

Percival and the others straightened to attention. Merlin sighed heavily.

 

“ _You_ will be returning to Atlantis, with the detained. _We_ will continue on our way.”

 

The group protested loudly, until Leon raised a hand and they settled.

 

“We can’t do that, Your Highness. We were sent to track you down and bring you both back, safely.”

 

“And who sent you?”

 

“Gaius.”

 

Merlin huffed, darkly amused. “Then you were sent to track us down, truly, but not to bring us back. Correct?”

 

Leon paused. “Those were not the exact words, no…”

 

“Knight Leon, while I appreciate the thought, where we are going you cannot follow. It’s too dangerous.”

 

Leon frowned and crossed his arms. He eyed Arthur before staring back straight into Merlin’s eyes. “It’s for that very reason I can’t let him out of my sight. Not again.”

 

Merlin cocked his head to the side. He was right, then. Arthur must have met Leon before. Childhood mate? Ah, of course. Gaius had mentioned once that he had taken a young noble to train alongside the prince.

 

Then Leon’s attitude went beyond responsibility or obligation to duty. Rather, this seemed more like true loyalty to a royal member. And it wasn’t to Merlin.

 

“Gaius must have asked you to find us before Valiant and the others, in order to help us survive their hunt. You accomplished it. But our quest must continue and you cannot come with us.”

 

“Is it because we would be a hindrance?” Lance asked, earnest and worried.

 

“Is it a secret quest?” wondered Percival.

 

“Are you eloping?!”

 

“ _Gawain!_ ”

 

Leon rubbed a hand on his face in exasperation. “Prince Emrys, even if I were to accept your orders and let you both go alone, you must know that _we_ cannot simply return to Atlantis.”

 

“That’s right,” said Elyan, taking out his communicator and placing it in front of the group face down. The atlantean royal seal was shown in the back. “We, technically, aided criminals that escaped the kingdom. If we return with all the captured elite knights, who do you think they will really arrest and incarcerate?”

 

An uncomfortable silence fell on the plaza, as the group gazed at each other uneasily.

 

Merlin made a decision. He reached inside his pouch and took out the rolled parchment they had found inside the bottle back in the Deserters’ hall of armory. He spread it in front of the group and laid it on the ground.

 

They all leaned in to study it, as Merlin pointed out a particular illustration within the map.

 

“A Trident? Wait, is that-?!” Lance was the first to figure it out, which did not surprise Merlin considering his friend’s parents worked for the royal archives.

 

“Yes, this is the Primeval Rule, Atlan’s weapon, the Golden Trident. Our quest involves its retrieval,” said Merlin quietly. There were no surface dwellers nearby, and the elite knights had been secured away from them, but he wasn’t going to take chances.

 

“I thought it was a legend?” Gawain asked dubiously. Elyan visibly resisted the urge to slap him again, considering he was still hurt.

 

“It is not,” said Lance, appropriately serious. “All the kingdoms have their weapons of power, except Atlantis, since Atlan himself hid it away shortly after the Fall.”

 

“Then it’s been lost to history. How do you know you can find it?” asked Percival, staring at Merlin first before gazing at Arthur whose head was still on his lap.

 

“We already did. Arthur and I were on our way when you and Valiant caught up to us.”

 

“Is that why you went to the Deserter Kingdom before coming here?” asked Elyan to which Merlin nodded.

 

“And Arthur agreed to all of this?”

 

Somehow, Leon’s grave question sounded more important than all others.

 

“He did. Reluctantly and under protest, but I’ve come to understand that, under all the bluster, Arthur’s noble nature would not have let him answer any other way,” said Merlin, looking down and smiling fondly at the blond on his lap. Unbeknownst to him, the soldiers exchanged knowing glances. “He has taken it upon himself to help Atlantis and the surface world prevent a terrible war at any cost. Although, I suspect beating Mordred has become a worthy reason for the trouble, too.”

 

Gawain pointed at Arthur, nodding firmly. “ _That_ I can respect. Way to go, Prince.”

 

Everyone rolled their eyes.

 

Then, Percival smirked. “ **I** suspect his reasons for beating Mordred are less altruistic.” They all eyed the pair of princes and their cozy positioning.

 

When Merlin raised his head to look at said Knight, he noted that all of them bore exaggeratedly innocent expressions. He blinked, confused, but let it go.

 

“The point is, Arthur and I must continue until we find the Trident and bring it back. Until then, Arthur will need allies within the rank and file. Mordred is making his move, which means that we don’t have a lot of time. Please understand, you cannot come with us.”

 

Leon huffed. “Why do this? What would Arthur accomplish?”

 

Merlin smiled at Leon. “He would become King.”

 

Leon’s sharp intake of breath was hidden by everyone else’s loud ‘eh?!’.

 

“He may have lost the combat, but were Arthur to bring back the Golden Trident and formally defeat Mordred, he would gain the title and stop the war without any more casualties.”

 

“A new King?” asked a dazed Lance.

 

“Well, he seems alright in comparison,” said Gawain, shrugging.

 

“Wouldn’t anyone, compared to Mordred?” asked a genuinely curious Percy.

 

“What would _you_ gain with this, Prince Emrys?”

 

Elyan’s question made everyone pause.

 

“The safety of my people,” answered Merlin without hesitation. “ _All_ of them.” This meant not only Xebel and Atlantis, but the rest of the seaborn under the sea.

 

(The group chuckled in tandem, knowing that Merlin meant it but wondering if he was truly oblivious to the fact that Arthur gaining the title would win him more than the crown. By then, they all knew that Merlin would be anything but reluctant to accept a change in his betrothal contract.)

 

“When Prince Arthur returns, he will need all the help he can get within Mordred’s court. Do you understand?” asked Merlin.

 

Leon sighed. “Is this what Gaius has been plotting from the very beginning?”

 

“No,” responded Merlin honestly. “He never meant for Mordred to get to this point. And Arthur was supposed to always have a choice. But, however opposed I was to the idea at first, this is the best way to end things favorably. Worry not, Arthur will make a fine King.”

 

Leon nodded. “ **I** know that. I’ve known it for a long time. But, the real question is, does **Arthur** know?”

 

Merlin frowned, and looked down to study the attractive features of said prince.

 

Leon and the others seemed to have capitulated to Merlin’s order. It would be best if they all went their separate ways soon. The princes had a legendary weapon to retrieve.

 

“Prince Emrys... Merlin, I won’t fight your decision anymore. But, please, for the sake of Arthur, don’t leave him alone.” Leon’s words were a vague allusion to Queen Ygraine, her abandonment of her child and later death.

 

“I won’t, Leon. I will protect him, with my life if necessary. I promise.”

 

(And that told the group that Merlin didn’t really get it. Not yet.)

 

“Then who will protect you?” asked a worried Lance.

 

Merlin blinked before grinning. “This dollophead, of course. I’d say we’ve been doing good so far.”

 

After all, both of them made a powerful pair. They would be alright.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Somewhere in the North Pacific Ocean**

 

Arthur groaned. His head was pounding and his throat felt dry. His chest felt tender and his limbs heavy.

 

In what type of bender was he in that his alcohol tolerance couldn’t keep up?

 

He squinted his eyes open, closing them immediately when sunlight hit.

 

What in the world?

 

Suddenly, images of Sicily, the map, the statues, the atlanteans, Black Manta and _Merlin_ flooded his mind. He jerked up.

 

Arthur felt gentle swaying and cool breeze before he saw the glittering blue of the ocean over the horizon.

 

Was he in a _boat_?

 

“Arthur!” A dear voice gasped, as Merlin appeared over the corner and kneeled in front of him.

 

Arthur stared confusedly at his friend as Merlin carefully prodded the coverings on his chest and arms. Where was his shirt?

 

“How are you feeling?” Merlin asked softly, cupping a hand to Arthur’s cheek and staring at him earnestly.

 

Arthur’s heart twinged and there was a fluttering sensation in his stomach.

 

“Arthur?”

 

“Fine!” He croaked, not wanting Merlin to worry. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. What happened?”

 

Merlin sighed in relief. He prodded the bandages -seaweed?- some more before removing the ones over his arms. The chest he kept covered.

 

“What is the last thing you remember?”

 

“Umm pain? I crushed Alvarr’s helmet before a missile was launched our way. I thought I managed to dodge but I must have been caught in the blast. Was I knocked unconscious?”

 

Arthur also remembered seeing Merlin’s beautiful features and _loving it_ before he passed out. But, considering his following realization, he preferred to keep that to himself.

 

Merlin straightened, pulling so close to Arthur he could distinguish each of his long lashes. He gulped, as the prince studied his pupils and swept a hand searchingly over his head. Then Merlin retreated, making Arthur simultaneously grateful and disappointed.

 

“Here, drink this,” Merlin said, handing over a glass full of a weirdly colored concoction.

 

“Are you a doctor now?” Arthur joked, eyeing the liquid dubiously, shrugging then drinking it in one swoop.

 

He promptly choked, at both the _horrible_ taste and the golden hue swallowing Merlin’s irises. If only the prince would warn him before he did that, Arthur would be better prepared to resist jumping Merlin.

 

Which was getting harder the longer he spent besides the delicious atlantean.

 

Merlin hovered a glowing hand over Arthur, gliding it over his upper torso. His muscles relaxed, soreness disappearing just as the seaweeds dissolved in the air. His uncovered chest showed healthy skin, with only the really old scars left.

 

Merlin rested his hand on Arthur’s left pectoral, over his heart. Arthur knew the prince could feel it racing. They stared into each other’s eyes.

 

“I am not much of a healer,” finally replied Merlin, a little breathless if Arthur was hearing right. “My magic is not suited to it, but I have learned a few things and Gaius’ potions cover the rest. I apologize if I missed anything.”

 

Arthur placed a hand over Merlin’s. “Not at all, I feel great,” he said, honestly, earning himself a smile from his enticing companion.

 

Merlin looked down to Arthur’s chest and his other hand traced the edge of the now non-existent wound left by the energy beam from Black Manta’s helmet. Arthur shivered at the light feel of the elegant fingers.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop that man,” said Merlin quietly, with a heavy frown. Arthur squeezed his hand.

 

“It’s not your fault. You had your own battle to fight. How did that go, by the way?”

 

Merlin gazed back at him, the dark veil of misplaced guilt falling from his eyes. Arthur resisted the urge to pump his fist in victory at having distracted him.

 

“It was troublesome. Valiant brought with him the might of the Elite and I couldn’t, in good conscience, hurt them all.”

 

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t? Because something tells me you are powerful enough.” Arthur’s cheeky grin made Merlin purse his lips in annoyance.

 

“Regardless, Leon and the others helped me avoid casualties.”

 

“Oh? I had help from Elyan and Lance, I think?”

 

Merlin nodded. “They got separated by the second blast. Elyan and Lance helped you subdue the black armored man, while Leon, Percy and Gawain fought Valiant and the others with me.”

 

“I’m going to have to thank them, next time I see them. By the way, where are they?” Arthur looked around curiously. “For that matter, why are we in a boat?”

 

Merlin sighed. “After you got blasted, Valiant launched a missile towards me-” 

 

“He did **_what_**?!”

 

“-and Gawain pushed me away to his detriment. I decided that enough was enough, and swept our enemies away forcefully.”

 

“Ah! The giant wave, I remember.”

 

“I almost killed Valiant, too, if it hadn’t been for Leon.” 

 

“Better that way. Now I can have a piece of him too.” Arthur grumbled.

 

Merlin glared at him, but Arthur simply shrugged. “Fortunately, Gawain survived. We regrouped, I treated you and Gawain, and I asked them to head back to Atlantis.”

 

“And Leon let you? That’s surprising.”

 

“He fought me on that, actually. But I couldn’t let them come. This trip is dangerous enough as it is. Besides, you’ll need allies when we return.”

 

Arthur studied Merlin’s expression. He really did believe they would persevere. In fact, Merlin _believed in Arthur_. That he would succeed not only on the quest but also in stopping the war. 

 

His heart throbbed for this man.

 

“So, they are going back with prisoners. Somehow, I don’t think Mordred will like that.”

 

Merlin smirked, dark and enticing. Arthur felt his blood rush down leaving him light headed.

 

“Leon and the others commandeered Valiant’s vessel. It’s a warship to which Leon has all the commands and authorization. Our group was going to use the brig to imprison the knights, and then go find Mordred. At this point, he must be taking steps to further his plans. Leon will contact us with their location, so whenever you gain the Trident we’ll know where to go.”

 

Arthur thought about it while moving his legs carefully, to try to hide his visible reaction to Merlin being his delightful self. He winced when he pulled a muscle.

 

Merlin surged forward, worried, but Arthur caught his flailing hand while keeping hold of the other one in his chest. He settled, squeezed Merlin’s hands in reassurance, and watched as the prince kneeled back a little closer than before.

 

Merlin huffed. “This is what happens when you let yourself be hurt, Arthur! Don’t _do_ that again.”

 

Arthur grinned. “I don’t know. Having you as a nurse seems worth the pain.” Merlin blushed heavily, to Arthur’s delight, before he swatted the back of his head.

 

“I mean it, Arthur Pendragon. Don’t be a dollophead and head into danger without proper preparation or back up!”

 

“Yes, dear,” was Arthur’s automatic response, after which he immediately blushed. Awkwardly, Arthur cleared his throat. “Anyways, what happened after that? Where are we?”

 

Merlin settled down. “Well, we had our own heading, so I took one of the boats from the marina and, with Lance’s help, settled you in. Surface vessels are fairly simple to drive and I hardly needed to use my magic to attract good currents and strong winds.”

 

Arthur laughed suddenly and with feeling, to Merlin’s shock.

 

“Merlin! The boats on the marina belong to people! And you just **stole** one?” He continued laughing as Merlin’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

 

“They are not for public use? Blast your surface world! Why was there not a sign or something?!”

 

Arthur’s chuckles quieted. He took a deep breath before exhaling heavily. “It’s alright. This happens all the time-” Merlin reared up, offended, but Arthur pulled him back with his hold on both his hands. “-we can compensate the owner later. We needed it, didn’t we? So, how long have we been in the water?”

 

Merlin pouted, adorably, before answering. “We have been sailing for about three days.”

 

“T-three days?! I was asleep that long?!”

 

“You were recovering. That burn took all your healing ability, even with my help. Nevertheless, it was long enough to get close to our destination.”

 

Arthur blinked. “Our destination? And where exactly is that? The bottle was destroyed with Romulus when the knights attacked.”

 

Merlin cocked his head to the side, bewildered. “You did not read the coordinates? The position of the stars in the bottle diagram called out a specific place. We are close to it now, in the North Pacific Ocean as the surface calls it.”

 

Arthur’s stomach dropped. Did he just say-?

 

“P-Pacific? How? When? You _do not_ cross the world, from Sicily to here, in only three days _Mer_ lin!”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “On the surface, perhaps not. But there are numerous portals, leading down ancient paths, that provide shortcuts from ocean to ocean.”

 

Arthur paused. “Really? Like the Bermuda Triangle?”

 

Merlin blinked. “I have no idea. But yes, during our primary education we are required to memorize them, or at least know where to look for them.”

 

Arthur gaped, mouth falling open in shock. Merlin giggled, using the hand not on Arthur’s chest to push his chin up. “Why is that surprising?”

 

Arthur swayed forward, entranced by Merlin’s twinkling eyes. “I guess I should be used to magic, after having met you.” If Merlin were any less naive, he would have easily deciphered Arthur’s besotted look.

 

When Merlin sat back, Arthur jerked to a stop, finally noticing that he had been about to steal a kiss from those tempting lips.

 

“So, are you telling me that these portals can be used even by surface vessels?” asked Arthur, in an effort to distract himself from his near blunder.

 

Merlin nodded. “Some are undersea, but the majority exist between islets and across gorges or chasms in large islands. Atlantis was not always an underwater kingdom, if you recall. We needed ways to travel across the world.”

 

Arthur understood. He was also very excited at the prospect. He would ask Merlin to teach him about these shortcuts when time permitted.

 

“Then, where is it we're heading to?”

 

Merlin’s eyes lost their sparkle, and a depressed aura surrounded him. Arthur felt the change in his bones, having gotten used to the playful and sincere side of the prince.

 

Merlin gulped. “Arthur, it seems the Trident is to be found in the Kingdom of the Trench.” Here, he hesitated before he moved the hand on his chest and placed it on Arthur’s shoulder, gripping it in comfort. “It is where Queen Ygraine was executed, sacrificed to its creatures.”

 

Arthur’s world tilted. He felt nauseous. He felt faint. Colors lost their luster and sounds became a shrill note tormenting his ears.

 

Then, the world rushed back when he felt hands cupping his cheeks and a forehead pressing against his. Arthur blinked his dazed eyes until he could distinguish Merlin’s, so close to him. 

 

If he were any braver, Arthur would have kissed Merlin until he had no breath left nor coherence to remember his mother and all she had suffered. He would search for comfort on the warm coral lips, and oblivion on the princely curves. He would-

 

“Arthur!”

 

“We can’t go, we need to stop…”

 

“What?”

 

“I can’t-! Merlin, those monsters, _no_ _one_ knows about them, my mother _died_ to them, I can’t… **lose you too**.”

 

“Oh, Arthur…”

 

“This was a doomed trip, from the start. I’ve gotten my ass handed to me by everyone and everything so far. And Trident or not, I can’t see myself succeeding. I am no King!”

 

The sound of crashing waves cocooned them. Arthur closed his eyes, and breathed in the scent of Merlin, alive and well in front of him.

 

But for how long…?

 

Merlin shook him until he opened his eyes to gaze back at fierce blue.

 

“Listen to me, Arthur. At the end of all this, you will become King. An amazing King. A worthy King. Why? Because you represent two worlds, their capacity to exist together in harmony and still show compassion in the midst of conflict.” Arthur’s heart pounded, hearing the passionate words. “Arthur, to **me** you are already a King. I see greatness in you, beautiful and perfect in your flaws. The real question is, can _you_ see it too?”

 

Arthur’s shoulders sagged. Merlin threw his arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Arthur splayed his hands on Merlin’s back and pressed him closer. They stayed like that, quiet, into the night.

 

Hours passed, and Arthur felt better.

 

Merlin had given him a new shirt since his previous one had been shredded after the battle. Then, the prince had left him alone to his thoughts.

 

Storm clouds formed overhead, and the waves grew choppy.

 

Merlin had mentioned that, even though the Trench creatures could sometimes be found traveling in packs across the ocean floor, they mostly kept to themselves within their kingdom. The most anyone knew about them was that they had once been a prosperous people, but they had devolved quickly since the moment Atlan left to his exile. They were vicious, savage and monstrous.

 

And his mother had suffered her end by their teeth.

 

Arthur frowned, massaged his neck then stretched his arms. Merlin’s words had been as much a balm to his mind, as his presence was to his soul.

 

Whatever happened from that moment on, Arthur knew that he had lost his heart to his bewitching little fish. Probably had since he first laid eyes on Merlin during the Steppenwolf ordeal. The feeling had just grown to be uncontainable.

 

Arthur had decided to trust Merlin, and himself. Aquaman had managed plenty of death defying feats so far, what would one more be? Besides, he had already sworn to protect Merlin come what may. And ruling a kingdom? Well, first things first.

 

Thunder cracked ahead, as rain started pouring.

 

Merlin stepped beside him, donning his tight fitting armor. Arthur let himself study the deliciously svelte figure, just in case it would be his last chance.

 

He swallowed over the rock lodged in his throat. Should he confess his feelings? Would they be a distraction to the prince?

 

A screech resounded somewhere in the darkness. A wave crashed against their boat, and it groaned with the effort of staying upright. Freezing water soaked them both as other screeches echoed through the sounds of the thunderstorm.

 

Arthur tensed, clenching his fists. The time for confessions had passed. Instead, they prepared to confront the seaborn nightmares made flesh.

 

Thumps sounded behind the pair, as the boat shook and creaked with the presence of the new and numerous passengers.

 

Merlin took Arthur’s hand for a second, squeezed it tight before releasing it. They both turned around to face the horrors at their backs.

 

The Trench welcomed the Heir of Atlan and his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 16: Resurrection
> 
> Something long lost rescues something newly treasured, and Arthur finally meets a Queen after a very long time.


	16. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something long lost rescues something newly treasured, and Arthur finally meets a Queen after a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't forget this time! :)
> 
> Also, I'm freaking out because I'm out of pre-written chapters! :000 
> 
> I'll do my best to keep on schedule...
> 
> Anyways, call out to my sister, who refuses to read this fic :((( but still allows me to bounce ideas off her. The "only drink Arthur ever wants is Merlin" somewhere in here is all hers.
> 
> Enjoy~

~~~*~~~

 

**North Pacific Ocean - Entrance to the Kingdom of the Trench**

 

This was _so_ not going to plan.

 

Arthur closed the door on the monsters face, before grabbing a crate and smashing it against the other one trying to enter the cabin through the broken window. He took a deep breath, and looked over his shoulder.

 

Merlin was like a god, indomitable and fierce in his fight against another group of creatures. A sexy figure, bending and jumping and just overall very distracting.

 

Arthur should have his head checked for loose screws. He couldn’t be thirsting over Merlin in the middle of a life or death battle. Really, it was like no matter how much water there was around him, the only drink he wanted was Merlin.

 

With his magic, Merlin created icicles from the waves sweeping over the edges of the boat and threw them at their attackers. Several got impaled, but more rose behind. They were interminable.

 

Arthur winced, as one screech was echoed by others. His head pounded with the effort of holding back the indistinct voices from the deep. Grabbing whatever he could use as a weapon, he slashed, stabbed and crushed anything that came close to them.

 

The Trench creatures were truly nightmares made flesh.

 

“What now Merlin?!” he yelled over the thunderous roar of the sea, the monsters and the storm.

 

“If we keep going like this, they will eat us! We must dive into the sea!”

 

Arthur must not have heard that right. Dive? Into the middle of the monster infested waters?

 

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!”

 

“DO YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA?! WE MUST REACH THE KINGDOM!”

 

Of course. The Kingdom of the Trench. Was this what Atlan meant when he said to prove one’s worth? Because this surely classified as the ‘Edge of the World’. If he were to ever meet his ancestor, Arthur had a few choice words for the man.

 

Merlin crashed into him from behind, as a creature lunged from what was left of that side of the cabin. Its claws had almost pierced Arthur.

 

Instinctively, Arthur rolled until he could grab Merlin and cover him with his body. Merlin’s eyes shone as he raised his arms from under Arthur. A dome of thick ice surrounded them, and immediately after the creatures started pounding on it.

 

Arthur gasped for breath, lamenting the fact that he couldn’t enjoy their current position more. Merlin gritted his teeth.

 

“How long can you hold that?” Arthur whispered in Merlin’s ear, unwittingly making him shiver.

 

“If it was anywhere else? Probably indefinitely. But here…?” Merlin answered quietly, the shield giving them a sense of privacy. He jerked as a crack appeared on the side of the dome.

 

“What’s wrong?” asked Arthur, worried by the strained frown on Merlin’s face.

 

The golden irises shone brighter for a second before a second layer of ice surrounded them. The creatures strident screeches became muffled, but that didn’t do much for the voices clamoring inside Arthur’s head.

 

Merlin gasped before sagging. “There is something here, in the kingdom. It’s disrupting my grasp on the sea. I _can’t_ … my magic is taking too long to respond, and too much energy to call forth.”

 

Arthur pushed himself up a little, pressing his hands at each side of Merlin’s head. He stared down into his companion, as the prince closed his eyes and took deep breaths.

 

“This is affecting you more than you’re telling me, isn’t it?”

 

Merlin huffed, a corner of his lips quirking into a half-smile. “My magic has always been there, Arthur, pushing to get out. But right now? It’s like pulling teeth.”

 

Arthur couldn’t resist. Something told him not to.

 

He bent down slightly, caressing Merlin’s cheek with the tip of his nose. Merlin’s sharp intake of breath was his only reaction, however, as the prince simply relaxed after a moment. Arthur traced a path, gently caressing the smooth skin, down the slant of the cheek, over the lips, under the chin to the hollow of his throat. He nuzzled Merlin lightly, and got a quiet moan in response.

 

A loud crash overhead resounded, as a hairline crack formed at the very top of their shield.

 

Right. 

 

Monsters. Battle. 

 

This was no time to seduce a prince. No matter how delectable he looked.

 

Arthur gathered his wits and pushed away from Merlin. The flushed cheeks and the dazed eyes made him swear internally, but he shook his head and forced himself to think through the lust.

 

“Merlin, is there anything that these creatures fear? Absolutely anything?”

 

Merlin cleared his throat, and blinked the glassiness away. “Yes, they are not fond of light. Artificial, energy or fire.”

 

A thunder boomed from far away.

 

Arthur grinned. “Would lightning suffice?”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “We have been under this thunderstorm since we got here. If they were in any way affected, we would have seen it.”

 

“Perhaps if we grounded it. Maybe attracting a major one to the boat would give us a few seconds head-start to dive into the sea.”

 

Merlin got a thoughtful look on his face. “I think I could call for a strike. If we had the Trident, you could do it yourself, but needs must.”

 

Arthur paused at that, then decided to ask about the abilities of the Trident later. When they actually had it.

 

“There should be some flares in the boat. We can use them to light the way underwater. But do we know where we are going? They don’t last long.”

 

Merlin bit his lip. A few more cracks appeared on the dome.

 

“I can only surmise where the kingdom’s entrance will be. It shouldn’t have changed from the old maps, since I doubt the creatures were interested in changing their architecture. Nonetheless, we must be careful.”

 

The screeches and pounding grew in intensity.

 

“Somehow, I suspect this will be an all or nothing dive, Merlin,” Arthur said, staring dubiously at the nearest fissure.

 

Merlin cupped Arthur’s cheek, and he leaned into it. They both took a deep breath, then nodded sharply.

 

With visible effort, Merlin exploded the ice outwards, being careful not to hit Arthur. The creatures that had been gathered over the dome were launched back, with several being shredded by sharp pieces.

 

Arthur rolled away, to the nearest cabinet still standing, and prayed to anyone who was listening that he would find the flares there.

 

Bingo.

 

The container had four. He took them all out, and lit one. Suddenly, all the creatures nearby flinched back, crouching and clawing at their eyes, blinded by the red glare.

 

Merlin ran to Arthur, and they held hands. They sprinted to the bow, jumping over the debris and bodies left by their previous bout. The flare threatened to go off, so Arthur simply threw it towards a monster climbing over the side. It shrieked as it burned.

 

Then, Merlin yelled to the skies as thunder rumbled before a massive lightning struck the boat.

 

They dove, as the remains of the vessel exploded at their backs.

 

Arthur lit up two more flares and handed one to Merlin.

 

After a moment, he kinda wished he hadn’t.

 

An army, a _sea_ made of Trench creatures swam in a circle around them. There were far more here than there had been on the boat. However, they kept away from the area illuminated by the red glare, which was a blessing.

 

Arthur breathed deeply, following closely behind Merlin. The more they descended, the calmer the sea got, if you didn’t count the deadly beings awaiting beyond the light.

 

This allowed Arthur to more clearly hear the voices from the Trench. Their feel was slimy and cold, and their meaning far more primitive than any other animal he had encountered. In this case, they were announcing their hunger. An endless and gnawing pain that had replaced their sense of self.

 

When Arthur reached out, he recoiled. His was a mere candle before the wildfire of their minds. They couldn’t, wouldn’t listen. They would only howl their need and their desperation to fulfill it.

 

The flares weakened and the monsters surged closer.

 

Merlin slowed their drop until they floated in front of a massive archway carved into a canyon wall. The bottom of the sea was still a ways down, but hopefully their destination was inside the kingdom.

 

“Lemuria,” Merlin murmured before he swam inside. Arthur lit the last of the flares and followed.

 

The hallway looked interminable, but its solid walls kept the creatures solely at their backs. The more they went forward, the farther the creatures stayed until only quiet remained. A massive set of doors stood in front of them, beautiful and whole, timeless in that place where no one dared thread.

 

Their last flare flickered.

 

“These are the doors to the capital, Lemuria. But, no one really knows what’s behind them, since the Trench came into existence,” Merlin related, his eyes studied the structure with longing.

 

“The creatures remained behind. I think it’s safe to say they don’t want to see what’s beyond these,” Arthur said drily.

 

“It may not be fear that keeps them away,” Merlin mused. “My magic feels terribly drowsy, lethargic before a greater power, if you will.”

 

Arthur side-eyed him, worried. “Something tells me you are not used to that.”

 

Merlin frowned. “It’s not that. Often, I’ve been called the most powerful sorcerer in atlantean history, and yet my magic will only truly be released upon my majority. I have never allowed it to roam free, choosing to exercise control over force. My magic is mighty, like the sea, but somehow being here feels even heavier.”

 

Arthur swam closer to the doors, and prepared to open them. The flare was giving its last sparkles of life.

 

“Maybe it’s the Trident. Power over the Sea and all that.”

 

Merlin floated behind Arthur, placing both hands on his shoulders in support.

 

“Perhaps. It does remind me of Xebel’s Manacles. The Trident’s presence may just be denser.”

 

Arthur pushed forward. Despite their size, the doors moved easily if slowly. He forced them until there was just enough space for them to go through. They swam inside.

 

The doors closed behind them as a burst of light blinded them.

 

Arthur squinted, before a roar deafened him. The gargantuan hallway had given way to an open space filled with broken structures. Once, that place had held a large city populated by advanced beings. Now, it lay in ruins under an immense underwater storm.

 

“Why do I feel like that’s our target?!” yelled Arthur, trying to be heard over the whirlpool.

 

“Come on!” Merlin replied, plunging recklessly into the tempest.

 

Ocean save Arthur from stubborn sorcerers.

 

He followed. They were promptly swallowed by the storm.

 

Arthur was battered from all sides. He could barely see his hands in front of him. All around, red lightning crackled and the water buffeted as he swam forward with effort.

 

Ahead, Merlin seemed to be doing better. He was swaying with the strong currents but he too was being pushed back. 

 

Then, Arthur heard it. A hum rose from the back of his mind to reverberate in his head. The Words were in an old language, the one he had been unconsciously interpreting throughout the trip. Somehow he knew that the door to the place they sought was beyond the storm. They only needed to 

 

Push

 

A

 

Little

 

Bit

 

Further.

 

Merlin’s head snapped back to look at him. He floated where he was, extending a hand for Arthur to take.

 

Arthur’s heart raced with the sudden knowledge that he _shouldn’t have stopped_.

 

He reached, desperate to take Merlin’s hand and hold him close or something, _anything_ that would make him less of a sitting target.

 

But he didn’t move fast enough.

 

Lightning boomed and crashed against the dear figure of the prince. Arthur couldn’t do anything but watch as Merlin’s motionless form was thrown out of the whirlpool. A flash preceded him on the way and Arthur lost sight of him.

 

For an endless second the world stopped. When it all rushed back, Arthur propelled himself forward, harder and faster than ever with the surge of strength that came with the desire to **get to Merlin**.

 

He burst out of the storm into incongruously still waters.

 

Arthur gasped for breath, trying to keep the anguish at bay while he looked around for his companion.

 

Nothing.

 

The hum came back, urging him to find it. Arthur ignored it in favor of searching for the one who had carved himself a place in his heart.

 

Faint light broke through the dark of the sea. Arthur swam up. Hoping. Praying.

 

Surely, _surely_ something like that would not hurt Merlin. He was too powerful. He was too clever.

 

He was too important.

 

Arthur broke the surface, forcing his lungs through the change from water to air as he continued searching around.

 

He moaned in distress before the urge to yell his worry, his ache, swept over him.

 

“MERLIN!”

 

It echoed along the cavernous rocky opening he had appeared in, towards the outside and the island beyond. It was a beautiful and timeless sort of place, large and untouched and _not what he cared about at the moment._

 

Arthur swam towards the beach ahead, heart on his throat as he searched and searched and **there!**

 

Two figures could be distinguished on the shore, one prone and one kneeling by the other’s side. He hurried, scrambling out of the water and ignoring everything until his knees hit the sand.

 

Arthur’s hands trembled as he reached for Merlin, cupping his cheeks and caressing them tenderly. He was pale and exhausted, but overall the prince seemed alright, only dazed and blinking at something over Arthur’s shoulder.

 

Arthur resisted the urge to weep, pressing forward until their foreheads touched. Merlin’s attention focused on him, then, and he raised a hand to bury it into Arthur’s hair. That warmth at his nape grounded him.

 

“I thought I’d lost you…” he whispered, agony ringing in each word. Merlin squeezed his nape harder before he pushed forward.

 

Merlin sat up and Arthur moved with him. Their foreheads no longer connected disquieted Arthur, so he let go of Merlin’s face in order to hook his arms under the prince’s legs and the small of his back.

 

“A-Arthur?!” Merlin exclaimed, face flushed, as the blond took him in his arms, crossed his legs and placed Merlin on his lap.

 

Arthur pulled him as close as possible, and Merlin twisted in his new seat slightly to place an arm around the blond’s shoulders. Arthur buried his face on Merlin’s throat and breathed until his heart registered the fact that the prince was _safe_ in his arms from where he would not be easily taken again.

 

Merlin carded his fingers gently through his golden tresses.

 

“I’m alright, Arthur.”

 

“Don’t _do that_ to me, ever again…”

 

“It’s not like I did it on purpose, you know?”

 

“ **Swear it** , Merlin.”

 

The amused sigh made Arthur twitch, but he really didn’t want to raise his head. The feel and smell of Merlin was too distracting, too glorious, considering he could have lost it.

 

“I _swear_ , Arthur, to not do it on purpose.”

 

In response to the cheeky tone, Arthur bit into the exquisite flawless skin, marking it and making Merlin moan in surprise.

 

“A-Arthur!” Merlin squeaked next, pulling on Arthur’s hair in an attempt to stop him. A very reluctant attempt. “N-not here!”

 

Arthur licked his mark leisurely. “Where would you like it then?” He asked, his voice husky with desire. Merlin melted in his arms.

 

A throat clearing broke through their bubble. Arthur snapped his head up to watch the other figure he had spied from the sea - oh, right - standing on the beach beside them with a hand on their hip.

 

“I think he meant: not _right now_.”

 

The soft, amused voice caused Arthur to blush in embarrassment. He had forgotten his surroundings in favor of ensuring Merlin’s safety.

 

His arms tightened around his precious cargo.

 

Merlin turned to the person too before shyly pressing his forehead to Arthur’s cheek.

 

“Arthur, she… uh, she saved me…”

 

Arthur blinked and studied the stranger again. It _was_ a woman, but their whole face was hidden behind a skull mask made of Trench creatures and other animal remains. She had long matted hair, faintly golden but mostly dirty and faded. The glittering of her white skin tight armor meant she was probably atlantean.

 

Had Merlin recognized her? For that matter, how had she come to be here?

 

“Thank you,” Arthur said, earnestly. He didn't know what he would have done if something had happened to Merlin.

 

“The first trip is disorienting,” the lady said, crouching. She cocked her head to the side. Arthur had the distinct impression that she was studying them - studying _him_ -. “This place disrupts technology and magic. I suspect that, on top of the natural confusion from the warping, he must have been affected by the sudden cutoff from his sorcery.”

 

Arthur looked at Merlin who blinked back at him. “You stopped. When we were in the storm, you _stopped_ and you shouldn’t have.”

 

Merlin frowned then sighed. “I… my magic was _gone_ , Arthur. And with it, the feel of you. I needed to make sure you were still there.”

 

Arthur hugged him, rubbing his chin on his black tresses.

 

The lady cocked her head to the other side. “When he traversed the portal, he was unconscious. He was almost eaten, but I managed to reach him in time. The light of the portal is very distinct when it opens, which happens very rarely in this place.” She continued her retelling, fiddling with a lock of her hair before absently tapping her mask.

 

“Why are you here in this place?” asked Arthur. It was not easy to find it, and he didn’t think it existed in any map, if Merlin not knowing about it was any indication.

 

The lady’s shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world was suddenly upon her shoulders. Or rather, as if she suddenly remembered that the weight was supposed to be there already.

 

“I was exiled, sentenced to death in the dark abyss that is the Trench. I fought the creatures and, along the way, I found myself here.”

 

Arthur heard the sorrow in her voice and something tightened in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he couldn’t help but say, aware of what a poor substitute it was as recompense for her suffering.

 

She kneeled properly, getting closer to them slowly, as if afraid.

 

“No, don’t apologize. Never you. Whatever happened, I brought it upon myself. Besides, we must only ever place the blame on he who swings the trident, never on who receives the strike.”

 

Arthur felt Merlin shiver in his arms. When he looked down, tears escaped his stormy eyes while a few clung to his long lashes.

 

“Merlin?” He breathed, cupping Merlin’s cheek and sweeping his tears off gently.

 

“Arthur, can’t you see? Who she is?” Merlin asked, voice breaking and on the verge of sobbing.

 

Arthur frowned and gazed back at the stranger. She seemed to gather herself before reaching back and untying her mask. Blond bangs were released to frame the revealed face of a person long thought lost.

 

Arthur’s world stopped turning a second time in as many hours. Here, before him, stood his mother. 

 

^~^~^~^

 

**Hidden Sea at the Earth’s Core - Inland Peaks**

 

Ygraine’s days, interminably identical as they were, blurred together in one seamless timeline. She separated her memories in the before and after her death.

 

Because that’s what it seemed at the time. Her death.

 

The thought of Uther’s face had been her constant companion for years. It became her shield and her sword against the tyranny of Lot, his cruelty and indifference.

 

Every once in a while, when she heard the whale songs, Ygraine allowed herself to imagine Arthur’s cute face, chubby cheeks and radiant smile. She imagined him grown up, a little man, a little prince.

 

And she _hurt_. Like she was missing a limb just like she was missing her heart. Uther and Arthur had become her everything, and she had left them behind.

 

When Mordred came to be, no matter his sire, her world brightened a little. He was her son, a small part of her that, regardless of her wishing that he was Uther’s too, quenched the emptiness inside.

 

But Lot didn’t make it easy. He wanted to rear up his heir in his own way, which she refused.

 

So Ygraine became a liability, and her removal a priority. Lot finding out about her family gave him all he needed, including the rage to make it as painful as possible.

 

Oh, how she missed her sons. Both of whom she had failed and abandoned, for different reasons but with the same consequences. They had grown up alone without her guidance and her love.

 

Arthur would be alright, having Uther by his side. But Mordred? She feared for him, alone in the castle with Lot for long periods of time. It wouldn’t matter how much her dear friend Hunith tried to mitigate it, Lot’s influence could be far reaching.

 

When Ygraine was thrown into the monster infested waters of the Trench, her sole reason for surviving had been her sons. She had promised herself to one day return to them, no matter what. So she fought, and she killed, and she ran, and she lived.

 

But Ygraine’s life became merely an existence of killing for weapons, hunting to eat and fighting for shelter. The days passed with no sense of time, no sun or moon to track in the sky. The innate ability of her people to read time in the currents of the sea had been disrupted when she warped to that place. With nothing else to do, she investigated the why.

 

She called it the Hidden Sea. Another dimension essentially, completely cutoff from the seven oceans of her world and nestled at the very core of Earth. At least, that was what she deciphered in the leftover atlantean ruins under the water and around the island.

 

It was a paradise for thought-to-be extinct creatures where they were protected and free to exist peacefully. The natural law of the survival of the fittest applied here in a more raw and unfiltered way. She would have been content if she hadn’t been forbidden from ever leaving it.

 

Ygraine turned to the horizon, the glare of red lightning striking what amounted to the sky in her cavernous hell indicated that the portal had opened. It had happened a handful of times in what she knew had been indefinite years of exile.

 

Ygraine pursed her lips, unable to stop the small flare of hope that swept over her. When the portal opened, it would always bring back bodies of Trench monsters, sometimes even animals from the deep. The mosasaur got to them first, eating its fill before circling the island for more prey.

 

Ygraine jumped from her perch, landed in a crouch and ran for the shores. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe someone else would be trapped here, someone alive that could serve as a companion on her exile. Maybe someone had discovered the magic draining nature of Lemuria’s aura and decided to investigate. Maybe, this time, she would finally get to go home.

 

The Queen dove in, straight and true, graceful despite her bone-deep exhaustion.

 

She spied the hulking shadow of the biggest underwater predator around and hurried to the portal’s vicinity. Her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw a young man, unconscious, swaying down with the drag of the waters.

 

Her heart raced when she recognized his face.

 

Quickly, she powered her swim, heading towards the mosasaur and punching its snout. It veered away, giving her time to grab hold of the young man and return to the surface.

 

They broke out of the waves and she hurried to the beach. Ygraine put her arm under his legs and lifted him, until they reached the nearest outcrop of rocks where she laid him down. He coughed, pressed a hand to his head and shook it. His eyes fluttered, until familiar blue orbs were revealed and Ygraine didn’t know if she wanted to weep in joy or despair.

 

This was _Merlin_ , the son of her heart, the son of her dearest friend, he who was destined for her _Arthur_. And he was now trapped here, in this hopeless place, with a useless old Queen.

 

Her hand lifted slowly, trembling, seeking to touch his face to ensure he was real. Whatever they did after this point, she was no longer **alone**.

 

Merlin blinked at her in confusion. Then he studied his surroundings. When his eyes sought her again, they grew hard and wary.

 

Of course. Her mask. Her way of appearing intimidating among the large creatures that dwelled in the island.

 

“Who are you?” he asked, trying but failing to sit up. She made to help him but stopped when he flinched back.

 

“Merlin…” she breathed, a sigh of sorrow and relief mixed in one. “Little sea dragon, what troubles have you incited now?” She asked, playful and defeated. The words fell from her lips as they had always done when facing the mischievousness of the young prince before her.

 

Merlin’s eyes grew rounded, disbelief battling suspicion on his face. He paled, flushed, then waned again as his energy was sapped from him. This place was dangerous for a sorcerer, Ygraine had learned. Her own magic had never been grand, but the presence of the older, ancient power beyond the great waterfall had closed her senses and her abilities. Merlin was magic itself, if anyone could survive this it would be him, but at an immediate cost.

 

Ygraine was about to explain, when an anguished cry echoed behind them. On the site of the portal, the cavern where it always opened, another figure broke through the surface of the waters only to yell for Merlin wretchedly.

 

Her heart skipped a beat. Such pain was on par with her own feelings at being separated from Uther. Surely this meant that whoever was looking for Merlin was…

 

The man appeared on the shore, stalked into the beach and stumbled towards them. He didn’t give her a glance, his eyes focused solely on Merlin, but she couldn’t take hers away from him.

 

He was tall, muscled and not very graceful. He was golden haired, tanned and so very handsome. He was **hers** , her Arthur, appearing before her like she had only ever dreamed about. Why didn’t she suspect? Merlin appearing could only mean his soulmate wasn’t far behind. And the druids had prophesied said soulmate a long time ago.

 

Arthur was awkward. He was desperate. He was tender. His current world consisted of Merlin, and his instincts drove him to comfort, hold tight, mark the person that owned his heart. Ygraine could relate, for she had done that very thing with her own lover.

 

It seemed Arthur took to his atlantean nature beautifully.

 

Oh, but how beautiful her son had grown up to be! And he was so easy to fluster! What she wouldn’t give to have Uther by her side, to tease their child over his love life as they had imagined during many late nights.

 

Ygraine’s heart settled. A weight lifting off it with the presence of her little prince. At least, until he reminded her of their location and her exile. His apology wrenched something inside of her.

 

Merlin’s tears almost broke her, but she gathered her resolve to release the bindings on her mask and reveal her face. It had been a while, so the glare of the unfiltered, crystalline light blinded her momentarily. Just as well, since Arthur had ceased all movements, maybe even his breathing, at seeing her.

 

He recognized her, then. That made the corners of her lips twitch in an attempted smile.

 

“Mom?” Arthur uttered, brokenly, not daring to hope. She surged forward but stayed her hand before it touched his cheek.

 

“Arthur, my beautiful boy… how handsome you have grown t-to b-be,” Ygraine said, before she couldn’t anymore. Wretched sobs stole her voice, and as Arthur opened his free arm to her, she fell to his embrace. She hugged them both, desperate to hold them in her arms and never let go. Finally, a small part of her family had been returned to her, after _such lonely years_.

 

They all wept.

 

After that, they stayed together, holding each other for a long time.

 

Ygraine tensed when she heard screeches overhead. They had stayed in one place too long. Soon, predators would seek them at the shores. They had to move.

 

Reluctantly, she let go. Arthur’s red face must have matched her own, but Merlin’s was more pale than anything. He had to be moved somewhere he could rest and recover as much energy as possible. Unfortunately, that meant taking him to her dwelling, which may or may not affect him negatively.

 

“Come, my children. Large predators will lumber into this clearing soon. We must seek shelter.”

 

Without hesitation, Arthur stood, hoisting Merlin in his arms and adjusting his grip. Merlin threw his arms over Arthur’s neck and leaned his head on his shoulder. The prince closed his eyes, and breathed slowly and carefully. Arthur frowned at that but refrained from commenting.

 

Ygraine touched his shoulder and smiled at him when he gazed back at her. “He will be alright. Let him rest.”

 

She led them into the forest, the bright light off the crystals hanging high above them disappearing under the cover of the trees. They traipsed carefully, stopping when she bid and hastening when she urged.

 

The center of the island, among the peaks and near the main waterfall, was a difficult place to travel to unless one knew where to go. Dinosaurs and other ancient animals always gathered around the place, but never ventured closer than a certain distance. Ygraine had discovered that and made use of it by setting her shelter there. Unlike those creatures’ instincts to stay far away from the highest predator in the vicinity, nay the whole Hidden Sea, she knew she was safe so long as she didn’t disturb **that** **one** ’s sleep.

 

“Lay him there. I will light a fire.”

 

“Why? It’s not like we can feel cold.”

 

“That may be so Arthur, but after living here for so long, one learns to enjoy natural light and a little bit of warmth whenever possible,” Ygraine said dryly. “Trust me, it will help.”

 

Arthur hesitated, but at Merlin’s encouraging smile, he settled the prince on the cot Ygraine had indicated and very reluctantly let him be. Her son walked towards her, checking on his beloved constantly over his shoulder.

 

“He’s exhausted,” Arthur muttered at her, to which she nodded.

 

“He’s without magic in this place. It is bound to affect him severely.”

 

“What can I do?” He asked, worried and eager.

 

Ygraine’s hands paused for a moment, before she finished fiddling with the dry branches and leaves. The fire was lit, and it grew to a comfortable size. She kneeled and stared into the flames.

 

“Arthur…” she hesitated, before pushing through. “I would like to apologize. For abandoning you. For abandoning your father. For not being there to watch you grow into the fine young man you no doubt are. And a fine prince to the people, I imagine-”

 

“Don’t!” Arthur interrupted, overwhelmed.”You don’t… I’m not… Mom, I-I should be the one saying sorry. If it wasn’t for me, you would be-”

 

“Hush now,” She cooed, having stood up to Arthur’s side. She grabbed his face, pinched his cheeks and playfully rubbed their noses together. Arthur’s face relaxed, and she smiled. It never failed to make him feel better. “None of this was your fault, Arthur. Lay it at my feet, for not being strong enough to end the monster that got in the way of our family. Regardless, I have never doubted, nor regretted you. You were a blessing from the Gods and from your father. So, you must _not_ doubt yourself.”

 

Arthur closed his eyes, and hugged her tightly. She returned the hug in kind. Then, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him slightly back. “Now, tell me why you are here, how you came to be in Lemuria, what’s become of Atlantis and… about your father… tell me everything.”

 

They sat near the fire and got comfortable. Arthur started talking and she listened.

 

Ygraine had a feeling this would be a long and troubling tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 17: One True King
> 
> One discovers the truth of his heart and the other conquers his inadequacy fears. Then, Arthur decides to face his destiny for which a primordial being tests his mettle.


	17. One True King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One discovers the truth of his heart and the other conquers his inadequacy fears. Then, Arthur decides to face his destiny for which a primordial being tests his mettle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you have a little bit more Merthur going on :D 
> 
> And I finally got to use my summary; I never imagined getting to this point.
> 
> Hope you all like it!

~*~*~*~

 

**Hidden Sea at the Earth’s Core - Ancient Gateway**

 

Merlin was exhausted.

 

He didn’t think he had ever felt so _diminished_ in all his life. It was like all colors were just a little bit muted, and his senses kept reaching out for Arthur’s presence at the back of his mind. The feel of the elder prince had become a comfort since his ever present magic had latched onto Arthur. It had taken Merlin a while to recognize it.

 

Now, it was too quiet, too subdued, too cold.

 

On the other hand, he felt so damn happy. Ygraine was alive!

 

His sisters’ idol, Atlantis’ Queen and Arthur’s mother. After all this time, it was an amazing discovery. How long must she have spent fearing for her life? It was unbelievable that she stood before them hale and hearty after years of grieving her. Merlin thought that the whole kingdom would lose their collective calm, and bow down at her feet. After Lot had removed her from the throne, he had gone mad with power. More mad, he meant. The people suffered and despaired of ever judging the venerated Pearl of the Seas.

 

It wasn’t really their fault. Being a monarch of a race such as theirs meant having powerful influence, sometimes even magical, over the subjects. Ygraine had never made use of hers, nor any other of her bloodline before her. The mates of the throne were considered rulers of equal standing, as such they too were given that gift. Obviously, Lot had abused his.

 

Merlin sat up and leaned back. He watched as Arthur and Ygraine hugged and smiled softly at the picture they made. His heart gave a squeeze and he bit his lip. Arthur must be overjoyed, and knowing that made Merlin _so happy_ …

 

They sat down and started talking. Merlin tuned them out after he heard Arthur start to recount their adventure. Their murmurs washed over him and his eyelids felt heavy. Surely a nap would make him better.

 

When he woke up next, the fire had gone out. He was disoriented at first and his limbs felt sore, but he was very comfortable. He sighed and snuggled closer to the source of warmth that made up his pillow… and his breath hitched.

 

Merlin raised his head slowly and looked up to find a sleeping Arthur under him. He had been resting his head and his hand on the elder prince’s chest, his other arm was caught underneath, hugging Arthur’s waist. He blushed hard.

 

Merlin thought about it before giving in to the impulse. He laid his head back down and listened to Arthur’s heartbeat. His other hand started caressing the firm chest under his palm, drawing shapeless figures leisurely. Unwittingly, he brushed against a nipple and jerked his hand back. Merlin’s heart raced while he waited for a reaction. When nothing happened, he lowered his hand again and used his fingertips to skim over the shirt in the same area.

 

Arthur shuddered a second before his hand trapped Merlin’s to his chest. Arthur’s other hand traveled down Merlin’s back to just above the swell of his rump. Merlin buried his head in Arthur’s shoulder, to hide his embarrassment and the stupid grin that grew on his lips. Arthur chuckled sleepily before pressing Merlin to himself.

 

“Don’t start something you’re not willing to finish, Merlin,” said Arthur, voice husky and hair mussed. Merlin rested his chin on Arthur’s chest and gazed back into his intriguing blue eyes. They stared at each other in silence.

 

Then, with a dusting of red over his cheeks and a mischievous glint in his eyes, Merlin smiled coquettishly. “Who said I wasn’t willing?”

 

Arthur’s eyes darkened with an emotion Merlin was starting to recognize as _his_. Arthur was often looking at Merlin like that. The xebellian royal found that he liked it very much.

 

Before anything could happen, much to Merlin’s disappointment, a rustle from nearby signaled the arrival of Ygraine. Self-conscious, Merlin moved to get off Arthur, but said prince refused to move his arm and so Merlin settled.

 

Ygraine, who Merlin had always seen as another parent figure, didn’t bat an eye at their positions. She simply smiled, knowingly, as she carried over her kill of the day. Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder again. How embarrassing. 

 

Arthur started stroking his back slowly, going lower every time Ygraine wasn’t looking at them. Merlin found it curious that he could still feel him clearly over his bodysuit armor. When said hand dipped dangerously, Merlin couldn’t take it and slapped Arthur’s chest. His response was Arthur’s booming laugh, making his chest vibrate, before a kiss was pressed to his black hair.

 

“Come my children, our food is ready.”

 

Hearing his mother, Arthur sat up, bringing Merlin with him. Without pause, his other arm swept under Merlin’s legs and he stood up, walking them both to the simple campfire area Ygraine had made. Merlin didn’t comment on the manhandling, as he would have done with absolutely anyone else. It was nice when Arthur did it. He felt safe.

 

They ate and talked. Ygraine explained what she had learned of the place. Merlin’s eyes brightened with interest when he heard of the ancient ruins spread over this Hidden Sea.

 

“What you are looking for sits beyond the waterfall. We are trapped here in this dimension until that can be retrieved.”

 

“The Trident? It’s really here?” Merlin asked, excited at the prospect of completing their mission. His people were on the verge of war, after all, and the one thing that could stop it was within their grasp.

 

Ygraine’s face turned grave and she nodded solemnly. “It is, I’ve seen it.”

 

“Why didn’t you take it then, mom? Why didn’t you… come back?” Arthur’s question was tentative but no less important.

 

Ygraine frowned before reaching a hand out to her son, who took it without pause and squeezed it. “Because there’s something guarding it. I tried many times, but only the true heir of Atlan can retrieve it.”

 

Merlin clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Prophecies are so vexing.”

 

Ygraine smiled again, secretive. “I’m surprised you feel that way, my dear. Aren’t you meant for a bright destiny?”

 

Arthur looked between the two, confused. Merlin hmphed, pouting slightly at her teasing. “I have never believed that One True King nonsense. It’s only brought me trouble. Everyone else decided they knew better because of it, that they knew what I was meant for, meant to do, meant to be. All because of this supposed mate I’m destined to have.”

 

Arthur blinked. “Mate?”

 

Ygraine hummed, eyeing Arthur. “It means lover, my little prince. A partner for life, a spouse, the one you decide to spend your life with. We atlanteans, when we mate, we do so for life.”

 

The blond frowned. Unconsciously, he hugged Merlin closer, as if afraid someone would come take him away. Merlin smiled, secretly pleased.

 

“What does that have to do with Merlin?”

 

“When he was born, a prophecy was made that announced him as the future mate of the One True King who would unite the seven seas. Together, they will bring peace and harmony to the kingdoms of the sea.” Ygraine said, her eyes looking between the pair in a very obvious manner.

 

Merlin blinked, feeling Arthur’s gaze on him but unable to tear his from the Queen. An idea niggled at the back of his mind.

 

“What about Mordred?” asked Arthur.

 

“What about him?” answered Merlin, distracted.

 

“Isn’t he your fiance?” Merlin shrugged. Yes, he was. “Then how does he fit in this?”

 

Merlin sighed. “His father, King Lot, decided upon his birth that Mordred was supposed to be the One True King. As such, he contracted us for marriage.”

 

“Since then?! And he just up and decided?! He can’t just make a prophecy fit his plans. You should be free to choose whoever you want Merlin!” Arthur’s words grew passionate the longer he spoke. “So, you are right, prophecies are a joke. I’m sure they don’t even come true!” Merlin was surprised at Arthur’s upset on his behalf. The elder prince huffed before he buried his face in Merlin’s shoulder.

 

Ygraine smiled. “Morgana’s prophecies always come true. Why would this one be any different?”

 

Merlin pursed his lips. “She never made such a prophecy. But she did…” Suddenly reminded of his sister, Merlin fiddled with his pouch, taking out his barrettes and the little bag Balinor had given him. While he studied the bag, Arthur grabbed his barrettes and clipped them on his black locks at each temple. Merlin looked back at him questioningly, but Arthur just shrugged and smiled.

 

“They look pretty on you.” Merlin blushed.

 

Merlin went back to staring at the bag before he decided to open it. A coin was nestled inside. The two sides were identical, with a detailed etching of Poseidon on both faces of the coin.

 

“Ah, the Druids’ coin, the mark of the order created to serve the greatest sorcerer to be born,” Ygraine explained upon seeing the coin.

 

Arthur poked at it in Merlin’s hand. “Isn’t this the same coin dad has? He said it marked a turning point in your lives. Two sides of the same coin, he always murmured when he took it out.” A frisson of something traveled down Merlin’s back and his head snapped up to stare at Arthur with wide eyes. Arthur looked back at him. “ _Don’t be afraid to find the other side of your coin_ , he used to say. _Find it and don’t ever let go_.”

 

Merlin’s eyes watered and he bit his lip. His heart gave a funny jump, and his hand tightened in Arthur’s shirt collar. “You were visited by Druids,” he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the blond's.

 

Arthur stared back, and they got lost in their own little world.

 

“Yes, Arthur was very little when Aglain came to the lighthouse,” said Ygraine. Merlin continued his intense study of the beautiful man in front of him. At least, until he heard that name.

 

“Aglain?!” He yelped, his head snapping around towards the Queen. “My teacher Aglain? Morgana’s favorite, Aglain? The bane of Morgause’s existence, Aglain? He’s a Druid?!”

 

Ygraine laughed. “It’s what he announced his name to be. After he declared that my son was the prophesied Orin, mate to be of Emrys.”

 

Arthur’s breath whooshed out, finally catching on to their back and forth. Merlin turned back to him, raising a hand and caressing his features.

 

It was _Arthur_. It had always been Arthur. Somehow, Merlin’s reticence to all things related to his prophecy was forgotten in light of discovering that the man who held him close was it. His destined one. It made so much sense! All the feelings he aroused in Merlin, that no one else in his life had done before. Morgause had always advised him to explore, to discover what he found attractive in others but… Merlin had never been interested in absolutely anyone.

 

He swallowed. Arthur’s mission to retrieve the Trident seemed more promising now.

 

Suddenly, Arthur closed his eyes and hissed. He buried his hand on his hair and pulled. Alarmed, Merlin cupped his cheeks. “Arthur?” He called softly.

 

Arthur groaned in pain. “Something is calling me, so loudly it’s splitting my head open.”

 

“Something?” Merlin asked, worried.

 

“I don’t know what it is… it’s been going on and off since we arrived in this place.” Arthur murmured, his furrowed brow evidence of his discomfort. Merlin flailed slightly, feeling useless, before he gazed at Ygraine beseeching.

 

Ygraine frowned. “It must be the creature guarding the Trident. It seems it knows you are here, Arthur.”

 

“What creature is it? It cannot be just any animal within the kingdoms of the sea, if it kept you from taking the Trident.” Merlin asked. His hands had reached up to Arthur’s temples to massage them using his thumbs. Arthur was now breathing rapidly, leaning into Merlin. Whatever that thing was doing, it was clearly affecting him.

 

Ygraine hesitated before sighing. “It is indeed not just any creature. The Karathen lies beyond the waterfall, serving as the test for all those who think themselves worthy to wield the Primeval Rule.”

 

“The Karathen?” Merlin asked, feeling faint. How troublesome that their race had innumerable legends, myths and prophecies. It was difficult to distinguish which ones were real and which ones were fantasy. It was the reason why Merlin loved history, since it was mostly rooted in facts. As it stood, the Karathen was a creature that could be construed as both real and not, a force of nature or a judge, jury and executioner sent by the gods to keep an eye on the mortal realm. Either way, sending Arthur to that thing…?

 

Ygraine, somehow sensing Merlin’s spiraling thoughts, walked towards them and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, offering comfort. “Only the true heir will withstand the challenge and emerge victorious. He is meant to lead us into a prosperous future. Have we not established that Arthur is him? Your destined king?”

 

Merlin’s tensed muscles relaxed. Ygraine was right. Besides, if there was anything he had learnt during this crazy adventure of theirs, it was that Arthur was one to persevere despite the odds. He was _meant_ to _be_ -

 

Arthur straightened abruptly, moving Merlin gently to the side until he was sitting on his own before he stood up and walked away. His posture was rigid, his shoulders tensed and his arms crossed, as if to ward off everything - and everyone -. He paced for a while, anxious, with his face turned away so Merlin could not see his expression.

 

Ygraine sat down besides Merlin and prepared to wait. Merlin bit his lip in worry as his gaze remained trained on the elder prince’s figure.

 

It wasn’t long before Arthur exploded, figuratively. He turned around, sharply, arms going wide in a sign of protest. The negative thoughts he had been fighting throughout this trip, maybe even his entire life, finally burst out of his lips.

 

“I can’t be it!” His cry echoed in the clearing. There was a pause where Merlin fidgeted, but a calm pat on his knee from Ygraine settled him down.

 

“There is no way- Why would it be me-? Everyone must be wrong! Me? A righteous king? A born leader? It’s not right!”

 

“I’m not strong enough, I’m not smart enough, I couldn’t even win against Mordred! I have been repeatedly beaten, and normally that’s not something I would be ashamed of, but it really drives the point that I. Am. Not. Ready.”

 

“Atlantis? It used to be a beautiful dream but… when I rejected the possibility? When they told me you died, mom? I turned my back on it, no regrets, no second guessing. I can’t- I wasn’t raised there! I know nothing of the kingdom? Of the people? I would be the laughing stock, and I just…”

 

Here, Arthur hid his face under both his palms, rubbing harshly before dragging them down. He blinked, pursed his lips, then sighed.

 

“You can’t call me worthy. I am not. I’m just a guy who played a part, who wanted to be something he is not, who let a man die because I was **angry…** ”

 

Merlin couldn’t help it. He stood up and walked to Arthur purposely. The blond stared at him, half afraid, clearly wanting to get away. But he stayed put, and let the younger prince approach.

 

Merlin stopped mere inches away. He resisted the urge to reach out. Instead he folded his hands behind his back and straightened his posture.

 

“Who was he?” He asked. 

 

Arthur hesitated before staring down at the ground, guilt suffusing his expression. “Alvarr’s father. He was the black armored man we fought in Sicily. I... ” He swallowed thickly, before forcing himself to continue, to confess. “They were pirates who broke into a submarine. They killed the main crew and would have finished the rest if I hadn’t gotten there… Alvarr and his father fought me and I hurt them. They are- _were_ just human, Merlin. In the end, Alvarr asked me for help but I just left them, left his father to die at the mercy of the sea.”

 

Merlin hummed, studying Arthur’s features closely. Then, he pushed forward, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck and hugging him tight. Arthur wavered before he returned the embrace, clutching at Merlin as if his life depended on it.

 

“It was not your fault,” Merlin whispered, feeling Arthur’s arms tighten around him in response. “You did everything you could to save the innocent, did you not? They could have been hurt worse if you hadn’t been there. If you hadn’t done what you did.”

 

Arthur took a shuddering breath. “It doesn’t make it right… I took it upon myself to punish them, when it should be the law that decides… it wasn’t up to me.”

 

Merlin caressed Arthur’s nape, idly playing with his blond hair. “Perhaps you are right, but they picked their own path when they chose piracy and devilry. In the end, that man met his ultimate fate at sea, not because it was **you** , but because it was **him**.”

 

Arthur sagged, melting into Merlin. Perhaps what he needed was absolution, perhaps what he needed was to be heard. Truly, Arthur’s noble heart was a delicate treasure, and his sense of justice was high. He could not be blamed for a moment of weakness; he was mortal. To Merlin, who understood that anyone could fall, just as he hoped anyone could be redeemed, Arthur was just perfect in his flaws because he had the strength to overcome them.

 

Merlin just needed to be there, to remind Arthur that he could do it.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Hidden Sea at the Earth’s Core - Ancient Gateway**

 

Arthur felt right, having Merlin in his arms. His confession had taken a lot from him, but the prince’s response had been all he needed to move past it. Somehow, Merlin’s words made sense where Arthur’s conscience didn’t. But the fact was that his fear of rejection had been unfounded. Here Merlin stood, hugging him and praising him, as if Arthur needed any more reasons to fall in love with the man.

 

“Will I be enough, then?” Arthur asked quietly, unable to hold back the words any longer. Merlin let go slightly, so he could raise his head to stare at Arthur in the eye. “To beat this karathen thing and get the Trident?”

 

“It’s what we came here to do. Really, Arthur, I never doubted you could do it. In this instance, our success was never dependent on a crown, or a royal status. You are here because you are fighting for the people, no? Yours and mine?” Merlin said.

 

“Ours,” Arthur responded which made Merlin blink. “Our people.” Merlin hummed, a small smile curling on his lips. 

 

He should always be like that, smiling, thought Arthur.

 

“The point is, Atlantis has always had a King,” continued Merlin, a worried frown settling on his features. Arthur longed to kiss his worries away, were it not for the impossible task still ahead. “Now, it needs something more.”

 

The Trident’s recovery a constant weight on his shoulders, Arthur returned the intense gaze of his gorgeous companion. “What could be greater than a King?”

 

“A Hero.”

 

His mother’s voice piped in from the side, making them both flinch. Honestly, Arthur had forgotten that they weren’t alone. For that reason, it took a few seconds for the words to register.

 

“Which you already are,” added Merlin, with a flirty wink and an impish grin in place. “Isn’t that so, Aquaman?”

 

Arthur swayed forward into Merlin before jerking back. Why was he so irresistible?! He glanced at his mom, whose eyes were sparkling in silent laughter. But truly, their support had renewed his hope. Aquaman had overcome many challenges in the past. This would just be another one that could make or break him. Piece of cake.

 

Arthur cleared his throat before _very reluctantly_ letting go of Merlin. The prince took a few steps back before he wobbled. Then, Ygraine was there, supporting Merlin while staring purposely at Arthur with a raised eyebrow. The blond wanted to be the one holding Merlin, but he did have a mission to complete. So, he nodded at the pair before turning to face the small lake across the boundary of broken columns that marked his mother’s camp.

 

Beyond the hanging branches of tall old trees and the crystal clear water laid a waterfall that hid an entrance. Ygraine had explained how to reach the destination, now it was Arthur’s turn to make it all the way there.

 

Refusing to look back, otherwise he would be tempted to stay, Arthur trusted that Merlin and his mom (two of his most precious people in the world) would be safe while he ventured into the unknown. He hopped over the raised steps leading into the waterfall, going under the cascading waters before he dove in, submerging himself quickly and swimming down the deep opening leading into a cavernous chamber.

 

Broken columns, pieces of sculptures and statues littered the place and Arthur took it all in calmly, swimming for a long time before he reached a worn yet still elegant archway. The doors seemed to have fallen a long time ago, so Arthur had no trouble crossing the entrance. It was a strange place, with architecture reminiscent of the Deserter Kingdom. Did that mean Arthur was in a pocket dimension? The whole Hidden Core appeared to be one as well, so had he entered a world within a world?

 

Atlan had gone out of his way to hide the Trident, it seemed.

 

Arthur swam for so long he started doubting the way. Maybe he had gotten lost? The place was so large that he couldn’t see the cavern walls at either side of him, and everything else looked similar, old and decayed. He hesitated for a moment before huffing and rolling his eyes. His mom had already explored the place, if she said the Trident was there, then it was, simple as that.

 

With a determined expression on his features, Arthur ventured on.

 

Soon enough, a glint in the distance caught his attention. The closer he got, the more consistent it appeared until a golden shimmer became distinct among the muted green darkness surrounding him. A shiver traveled down his spine when he felt a near suffocating presence the second his eyes landed on the form of the Trident. A constant wave of power emanated from it, washing over everything before receding back to the origin. Then, it started all over again.

 

The weapon was being held by someone, a man sitting on a giant, majestic throne, who seemed frozen in time. Upon closer inspection, Arthur corrected himself. The man was petrified, eyes closed in apparent slumber and with both hands clenched around the shaft of the Trident. A frayed cape swayed in the gentle current, draped over the man’s shoulders.

 

King Atlan sat before Arthur, the last owner of the Primeval Rule.

 

_And so, another fool makes his way into my claws…_

 

Arthur swirled in place, gaze searching for the voice that almost gave him a heart attack.

 

 _How many does this make, hmm? It has been so long since… and I am so_ **_hungry…_ **

 

With his heart rate through the roof, Arthur kept looking around frantically for the owner of the voice. Another heavy presence could be felt slowly making its way along the currents.

 

_What an optimistic fool you were, Atlan, to have believed someone worthy could come to claim your legacy…_

 

Arthur frowned, before he let himself float down to the ground. He took a stance and braced himself to meet the enormous shadow that bore down on him.

 

_And now here I lay in wait, a superfluous guard to a needy thing, bored out of my mind and so very alone… for eternity…_

 

When he took a step back, a clatter sounded at his feet. Arthur looked down to find a rotten skeleton fist clenched over a sword. Raising his head, he noticed the innumerable corpses, dressed in armor, that lay at the bottom of the cavern. A perfect semicircle around the throne was the only area of the floor that remained clean.

 

Arthur froze, turning his head slowly to see a massive bone white snout emerge from the darkness into the golden shimmery light produced by the Trident. Two iridescent purple eyes blinked open, black pupils eyeing him curiously before sharply becoming thin slits.

 

 _Hello,_ **_prey…_ **

 

Acting on instinct, Arthur dove to the side, barely missing the long, sinuous and _spiked?_ appendage that slammed where he had stood. Said limb flexed before sweeping in a large arch, catching Arthur on his back and hurling him away.

 

Slightly disoriented, Arthur shook his head before diving down again. A creature of that size, with tentacles for limbs, could catch him easily if he remained floating, since it could attack from anywhere. If he remained at the bottom of the cavern, the karathen would only be able to come from above or the sides, which could give Arthur enough notice to dodge.

 

Not that one could win that way. How the hell was he supposed to fight this?

 

_I had forgotten how small mortal creatures were. Easy to scare, not so easy to catch… shall I swallow the whole room?_

 

Arthur’s breath hitched before he dove again, pressing flat to the floor as an appendage swept over him. How many did this thing have? No matter. The voice kept talking to itself as it leisurely hunted for its prey. It made it a little easier to evade.

 

This was the thing that had been calling for him since Arthur had crossed to the Hidden Sea in search of Merlin! The thing that had given him a massive headache with its constant whining!

 

A column collapsed, raising a huge cloud of debris and dust that temporarily covered the view of the entire room. Arthur took the chance to propel himself towards the Trident. Perhaps if he took the darn thing he could-

 

Something slammed him to the floor, stealing his breath and nearly crushing his chest. The tentacle flexed before letting go, thankfully free of spikes on the area that had covered Arthur. It ascended slowly, content to give Arthur time to regain his breath, before it prepared to swing down one more time.

 

_And here another greedy thing will lie, foolish in its quest to take what will only ever be yours, my old friend…_

 

“ **Wait!** ” Arthur yelled, shakily pushing to his knees before he raised his head to search for the iridescent purple eyes. A loud pause was felt in the room, a hush falling over everything now that the constant hum of the karathen’s voice was silenced. “I did come for the Trident, but not because I covet its power. If it wasn’t for an impending war, I’d want nothing to do with the thing!”

 

Frustrated and half-scared out of his mind, Arthur was still very much fed up with this creature’s thoughts on himself. I mean, really? First it called for Arthur to come and now it was playing with him as if he didn’t have better things to do. What was next? Talking his ears off while it tore out Arthur’s limbs? No thanks!

 

“Atlan may very well have been a bastard, by the way, for keeping you here and leading me around a frankly stupid quest in search of a glorified fork, getting my ass beaten at each corner and that’s just not cool! What the hell was he thinking? Couldn’t he have left better instructions?!”

 

The creature left out a breath that pushed against Arthur, but he stood his ground. A curious limb approached him, making as if to poke him before it paused. Instead, it twisted in place before laying on the ground flat. Arthur stared at it, thought about it, then took the offer and stood on its flat tip.

 

The tentacle rose with him, slowly bringing Arthur closer to the creature’s snout, where it proceeded to sniff him while its eyes studied him intently.

 

_You can hear me._

 

Unlike the previous mindless, sing-song chatter, now the karathen’s voice was focused yet curious. Arthur held its gaze before he shrugged.

 

“Yes, I can. I’ve been hearing you since you came in… actually, I’ve been hearing you since I arrived at this place.”

 

The slitted pupils sharpened.

 

_You heard my call?_

 

“Gave me a major headache, by the way. Worried my _ma_ -friend,” finished Arthur lamely, blinking at his near blunder. For some reason, the word he was about to say had come naturally with the thought of Merlin, but it wasn’t something Arthur had ever used. After the conversation between his mother and the younger prince, however, that word had taken root in his thoughts without notice. Arthur shook his head.

 

The karathen opened its maw, showing razor-sharp teeth the size of Arthur, and released a mournful call from the back of its throat. The croon, at a close distance from the source, felt more like vibrations in the water then an actual sound due to the sub-frequency. To Arthur, however, it washed over him like a whale song, rising in a harmonious wave before it started grating on his ears. The words hidden underneath the sound echoed in his mind.

 

_Come,_

 

_I await you,_

 

_I am alone,_

 

_He awaits you,_

 

_He is gone,_

 

_It awaits you,_

 

_It cries undone,_

 

_We call for he who carries destiny_

 

_Orin, the Warden!_

 

Arthur clutched at his head the longer the call went out. Distance didn’t necessarily make it louder in his mind, but feeling the vibrations from standing so close to the karathen made the experience particularly more painful. Then the song ended and silence befell, allowing Arthur to breathe and shake himself off. He blinked dazedly for a moment before he stared back into the curious eyes of the creature.

 

There was a pause before he awkwardly asked “So, why do you keep calling for this warden, Orin?”

 

The karathen exhaled heavily before it lowered the appendage Arthur was standing on back to the cavern floor. With nothing else to do, he walked off it, floating down until his feet touched the ground. The appendage remained where it was, but the gigantic figure of the creature retreated into darkness, its silhouette blending with the dark waters beyond the faint light of the Trident. Arthur watched it go in confusion.

 

_Well? Are you not going to try your hand at the treasure?_

 

Despite the mocking tone in its voice, Arthur could clearly hear the challenge underneath the words. He whirled around and observed the golden weapon still clasped in the hands of the petrified form of his ancestor. Cautiously, he swam towards it, half-expecting an attack on the way. There came none.

 

Standing before the King, Arthur studied his features and made note of the similarities between them. Ygraine resembled Atlan more closely, but Arthur supposed he shared his nose and perhaps his body type.

 

“Is he…?”

 

_Dead. He has been so for a long time… the old fool._

 

Arthur flinched when the karathen answered but he supposed the creature was charged with protecting the Trident, so it would not have gone far. Which begged the question, why was it letting Arthur near the thing?

 

“Why?” He voiced the question before consciously registering it.

 

_Hmmm because he was both selfish and self-sacrificing. He took up a self-imposed mission and damned others in doing so._

 

Arthur blinked at the candid tone from the creature, bemused by their conversation. The dichotomy it presented about his ancestor was confusing, but he supposed there was a reason for everything, especially what people did, whether or not they were in the right.

 

An air of expectation fell over the chamber and the world stood still. Arthur deliberated for a second before taking a decisive step forward. He had always been a man of action, and his objective was right there in front of him. It didn’t matter that the karathen seemed to be waiting for something to happen. He reached out.

 

His fingers grazed the Trident, above the fists of Atlan, and Arthur held his breath. When nothing happened, he grasped the staff firmly and made to pull it out. Without resistance, the Trident slipped from Atlan’s grasp, rigid fingers loosening with no other reaction from the petrified form.

 

Arthur stared at the pulsing weapon in his hand before he brought his other hand up to close over the staff, in the same position the olden King had. Mesmerized with its shine, Arthur placed the butt on the ground between his feet and looked up at the sharp edges of the three prongs. The Trident was beautiful in a deadly way, archaic words and symbols spread over every inch of it, glowing on and off.

 

Arthur exhaled heavily, disbelief filling him at having obtained what Merlin and him had been questing for, with arguably little difficulty. He turned to say something to the creature about the weapon's...

 

Arthur felt a violent lurch at the bottom of his stomach as his hands became fused to the staff. The Trident glowed so bright he had to close his eyes. In his mind, he heard the karathen say-

 

_And now we see if you can claim it._

 

_This needy, greedy thing that has been waiting a long time to play with somebody._

 

_I wonder if you are who it thinks you are? Atlan was very specific in his instructions._

 

_If you are the Orin of prophecy, I will be very entertained with what is to come in the future._

 

_Perhaps you will be better. Perhaps you will not. I will watch out for your decision… and maybe bet on the outcome._

 

_Hold on tight…_

 

-before his mind was crushed by the weight of the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 18: By Right of Conquest
> 
> A civil war breaks against the last sea kingdom standing in Mordred’s way, but it gets interrupted by Arthur’s spectacular entrance.


	18. By Right of Conquest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A civil war breaks against the last sea kingdom standing in Mordred’s way, but it gets interrupted by Arthur’s spectacular entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so nervous! D: I hope I delivered with this chapter, OMG.
> 
> Fun fact, the last scene here has been written since December 2018. I think it was the first thing I ever wrote for this fic, which goes to show how long it took me to gather the courage to both continue and post it for you guys :)
> 
> Next week I'm giving myself a break. Instead of a regular chapter, you will have a side-story, and the week after that we'll continue our main story. I need time to catch up to our ending :0

~~~*~~~

 

**Hidden Sea at the Earth’s Core - Sealed Throne Room**

 

The ocean was a vast place.

 

It ran deep, dark and cold. It could also be clear, warm and shallow. It delineated all land across the planet and served as home to an innumerable number of creatures. Its sheer size was breathtaking, its vast power awe-inspiring, and its weight?

 

Well, it was monumental.

 

Arthur’s knees wavered from the utterly massive mental pressure that the Trident dumped on him. His fists tightened on the staff and he braced his legs before focusing all his attention on the power washing over him. Behind his closed eyelids, millions of lights appeared, shining in multiple colors and intensity, bringing with them interminable murmurs that whispered unintelligible things in his ears.

 

The Trident connected him to those voices, carrying his thoughts to them and bringing back theirs in return. In the periphery, a slumbering, eternal beast blinked to awareness for a second, the ocean itself acknowledging Arthur’s unwitting call before going back to sleep. In that instant, it had carried a familiar sweet and salty taste, the feel of a fiery, untamed attitude mixed with a warm, naive and welcoming self.

 

The memory of holding Merlin gave strength to Arthur, his faltering, tensed limbs firming as he took a deep breath.

 

_?_

 

A niggling feeling at the back of his head poked at him playfully. It was curiously examining Arthur’s memories of his irresistible sorcerer. Arthur gritted his teeth before closing that mental door with finality. No one - no **thing** \- else but him would see Merlin through his eyes.

 

_!_

 

Its surprise didn’t last long, as Arthur took hold of the ever increasing power and leashed it. Immediately after, a distinctly pouting Trident acquiesced, falling under Arthur’s silent _heel_ without protest. In the distance, the lights that represented the animal kingdom of the ocean retreated slowly, bidding welcome to _the King_ before vanishing with the currents.

 

( **Mordred’s** eyes snapped open at feeling his faithful tylosaur jerk to a stop. A shiver traveled down his spine as the sea whispered something incomprehensible in his ear. The armies at the young king’s back continued forward none the wiser.

 

The dark haired youth frowned, eyes sweeping over the fauna surrounding him. All the animals had jerked to a stop for an instant before continuing with their simple lives. His mount shuddered awake before swaying in place. Mordred hesitated before bidding it to move forward. Whatever that had been, it was clearly over.

 

Mordred had an invasion to lead. The Kingdom of Brine would fall under his thumb, with the might of his three armies, allowing him to be crowned High King. The surface world would be next.)

 

In the wake of the simplest and farthest voices vanishing, Arthur shuddered at the remaining slimy feel of the Trench. They felt closer, like standing in front of a mirror and seeing the reflection on the other side. This made Arthur distinguish the difference between the pocket dimension that made up the Hidden Sea and his original world. 

 

Where before he had tried unsuccessfully to reach out to the Trench creatures, Arthur was now able to overshadow their gnawing hunger with the overbearing presence of the Trident backing him. It was eerie, feeling their whole race halt in their movements and await his commands. He promptly let go of their minds, allowing them to return to their base instincts.

 

( **Morgana** gasped awake in her seat. Morgause stood up from her desk. Both princesses cocked their heads to the side, eyes burning gold with the call of their magic. In a trance, they acknowledged the change in the currents by contributing a bit of their magic into the sea.

 

Morgana and Morgause were very aware of what this strange call meant. One of the seven treasures was announcing its awakening to the others. Morgause, heir to the throne of Xebel and rightful next owner of the Manacles, felt it more keenly.

 

“They found it,” Morgana breathed, torn between worry and delight.

 

Morgause’s fists tightened. “Then we did well in following Father on this march. If nothing else, we shall meet our brother and his beau very soon.” Her white teeth glinted with her toothy grin. It was more menacing than happy.)

 

Almost out of energy, Arthur carefully pulled back the Trident’s power. It followed his orders happily, a neglected kid bursting at the seams after finally getting attention from a parent. Before it stopped completely, however, Arthur felt a polite mental knock from the one creature physically standing at his back.

 

_Greetings, Young King, he who bears the might of the Seas. My name is Aithusa. I am at your service._

 

Arthur blinked, dazed and barely keeping his stance. He turned his head slightly to the side, and noticed the shining purple gaze studying him from a distance. The karathen, Aithusa, didn’t lose her ( _her_ , goodness, it was _female_ ) sarcastic, bored tone, but her words rang true. She acknowledged him as the owner of the Trident, like Atlan had once been, and as such someone who legitimately stood at her level. Not that Arthur felt like it, considering he was the size of an ant before her.

 

She closed her eyes and dipped her head slightly to him from the shadows. Then, she approached slowly, careful to not destroy anything on the way to the throne. Her body was massive, so she tucked away all her limbs and only drew her head near. Arthur twisted his body and reached out a hand, his other hand trembling with the effort of holding the Trident. His fingers grazed Aithusa’s chin.

 

A pearlescent glimmer swept over her figure, illuminating her form before it shrunk slowly. She lost the tentacles, and her body became sinuous, long and snake-like, ending on a flared, beautiful tail. Her scales gave the impression her color was still bone white, until she undulated and they caught the light, making rainbow colors burst into existence. She was no longer colossal in size, now resembling the length of a blue whale until she coiled up her tail to get smaller.

 

Arthur gaped at her until she laughed mockingly at him. Rolling his eyes, he went back to ignoring her in favor of the Trident. Returning his hand to the staff, Arthur took a deep breath and let it go slowly, the golden shine of the Trident receding from top to bottom. Arthur collapsed to his knees, barely keeping the rest of his body up by holding on to the Trident.

 

He raised his head just in time to see the petrified form of Atlan crumble into dust as the frayed cape on his shoulders got loose and floated away.

 

_Go on then, Young King. Take your rightful seat._

 

Arthur glared at her over his shoulder, before he resignedly did as she bid. Feeling embarrassed but glad that no one else except that overgrown snake would see him, Arthur sat down on the recently emptied throne. The Trident pulsed one last time and a myriad of tiny scales, clinking like metal, surrounded his body from feet to neck. When that was done, a shiny armor covered Arthur similar to Merlin’s. The gauntlets encasing his arms were made of a hardened and smooth material, with dorsal fin-like attachments in his forearms. His new boots were the same as the gauntlets.

 

Huh, convenient. If Arthur could learn how to on and off this thing, he could have body armor in an instant.

 

Arthur leaned back on the throne. He felt powerful and capable of accomplishing absolutely anything. With the Trident in his hands, he would be able to stop the war and save his people. Arthur grinned.

 

( **Merlin** took a deep breath and opened his eyes, irises gleaming gold with magic. The feel of Arthur returned, a comforting warmth at the back of his mind and his heart. He could see him now, beyond the waterfall, sitting regal in a throne with the Trident in his hands.

 

Ygraine walked up to him and, seeing the evidence of his returned magic, turned to watch the waterfall too.

 

“The One True King has risen,” she announced with a secret smile.

 

Merlin’s eyes went half-lidded and he licked his lips. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Arthur).

 

Aithusa curled her body around the throne, placing her head on her tail and twisting it to face Arthur. He remained seated, his tired body slowly recovering from the energy spent calming the Trident. Said weapon radiated contentment in that small connection it had opened at the back of Arthur’s mind.

 

That connection brought his attention to another tether right besides it, older and brighter. When Arthur tugged at it, a sensation like laughter coursed through his body. It was _Merlin_.

 

As irresistible as Arthur found the prince, he thought about the fact that Merlin had been living under a prophecy all his life that had dictated who he was meant to be with. Arthur had accepted his role in the quest, a King-to-be for Atlantis and its people, both of which needed guidance that he may be able to provide (With lots of help. He was very willing to ask for it). But he didn’t think it was fair on Merlin to expect his acceptance of Arthur just because a prophecy said it.

 

If anything, it meant Arthur would do his best to romance the young man until he fell just as in love with Arthur, as Arthur was with him.

 

Arthur only feared that his hormones would get the better of him, too much and too soon.

 

_Orin, the Warden, has finally arrived. Are you not missing your other half, though?_

 

Broken out of his thoughts, Arthur gave his attention to Aithusa who appeared to be sleeping, if not for the barely open eye facing him.

 

“My other half? You mean Mer-err Emrys?”

 

Aithusa’s eyes opened completely, a glint of something in their depths. 

 

_So you do have your Emrys, then. Good. Your future would be bleak otherwise._

 

Somewhat tired of the ominous words and references to his future, as if he had no say in the matter, Arthur sighed and stood up. His body responded slowly, but the longer he held the Trident the faster his recovery was.

 

He swam past Aithusa, in the direction of the waterfall entrance. The karathen stayed behind. He stopped not even half-way through the chamber before looking back at her. Arthur had remembered something sort of important.

 

“How do we get out of here?”

 

_Here?_

 

“This pocket dimension, where the Trident was hidden.”

 

_Ah, that is easy. You open a portal with the Trident._

 

Arthur paused. “It can open portals?”

 

_No._

 

Arthur felt like strangling something.

 

_But it can open the door back to its original realm from here, now that it has been retrieved. It is another treasure that has the power to open any portals._

 

Well, fortunately he didn’t have to worry about questing for another treasure then. So long as the Trident could get them back, Arthur could go stop an invasion. And he better hurry.

 

On his way back to his mom and Merlin, Aithusa spoke again in his mind.

 

_Open the door here, in this place. If you go back where you originally warped from, the storm will take you. Besides, I’m feeling adventurous myself…_

 

Arthur was pretty sure he knew what that meant, but he refused to think about it right that second. The swim back seemed shorter. Perhaps Aithusa or the Trident had done something to the cavern, to make it feel endless when first trying to reach the throne.

 

He reached the surface, pulled himself out of the water and stood behind the waterfall. With the Trident in hand, Arthur walked forward, bearing the weight of the cascading waters for a moment until he stepped on the other side. He slammed the butt of his weapon on the ground and looked up, his eyes catching Merlin’s unerringly. They held each other’s gaze for an eternal second.

 

( **Arthur** had no idea what he looked like. His deliciously sculpted body was hugged in all the right places by the glimmering body armor he was wearing. The Trident was taller than him, glinting gold in the crystalline light of the Hidden Sea, casting highlights over Arthur’s blond locks.

 

He looked imposing. He looked regal. He was thoroughly _drenched_.

 

Merlin vaguely remembered a human expression Morgause liked to reference, something about wanting to climb someone like a tree.

 

Well.

 

He did feel like getting up on all that. Was this what sexual attraction felt like? Since it was for Arthur, Merlin was very comfortable with the idea. And encouraging. If he jumped on Arthur, would the elder prince catch him? Hold him? Press their bodies closer?

 

Ah.

 

But he wasn’t just a prince anymore, was he?

 

Arthur was a King. _The_ King. _Merlin’s_ King.

 

His heart sang at how right those words felt.)

 

Arthur blinked and the spell was broken. The sudden itch to touch Merlin overwhelmed him, so he hurried down the raised steps to the lakeshore. Merlin waited for him and soon Arthur found himself in front of the sorcerer. One of his hands lifted on its own accord to cup Merlin’s cheek, his thumb caressing the skin tenderly.

 

Merlin’s irises burned gold and Arthur let the usual shiver travel down his spine. How he loved to see the evidence of Merlin’s magic, it always threatened to drive him wild.

 

“It’s back,” he murmured, redundantly. No doubt Merlin had known it the moment Arthur had leashed back the power of the Trident.

 

Merlin hummed, as he leaned into Arthur’s touch. “You’re back too.”

 

Arthur wanted to reply with something sappy, like ‘I’ll always return to you’, but he refrained. Instead, he shyly offered the Trident to Merlin, watching him study it under his lashes. Merlin marveled appropriately at the weapon, reaching out with careful fingers to lightly touch one of the prongs.

 

In the back of Arthur’s mind, he heard the Trident purr. He could relate.

 

Suddenly, Arthur had the stupid urge to preen. There he stood, with arguably the most powerful weapon on the seas, in front of the most powerful sorcerer of the seas. Only _he_ had been capable of claiming the Trident. Surely, _surely_ , that meant that Merlin had some cause to think of Arthur as a possible… mate?

 

Merlin faltered and Arthur swiftly looped an arm around his waist, bringing the young prince flush to his chest. With a worried frown, Arthur forgot about everything except Merlin, and remembered that he had been terribly weakened when they warped to the Hidden Sea.

 

Arthur pressed their foreheads together and looked deep into Merlin’s eyes. “Don’t use magic if you’re still exhausted. How are you feeling?”

 

Merlin smiled, a sweet, happy thing that sent Arthur’s heart racing. “Better now,” he said, placing both his hands on Arthur’s chest.

 

Arthur blushed slightly. Merlin could surely feel how fast his heartbeat was. He wondered if Merlin suspected that he himself was the reason. Arthur didn’t mind, Merlin owned him.

 

Merlin’s half-lidded eyes blinked slowly at him, before he purposely tilted his head to better show his long, graceful neck. A sudden need to bite it swept over Arthur, just as it had earlier at the beach when faced with Merlin’s impertinence. Slowly, Arthur traced the tip of his nose from Merlin’s cheek down the neck so deliciously presented to him, breathing wetly over the alabaster skin. He licked under his chin and above the edge of his armor, tasting salt and sweetness, feeling Merlin tremble in his arms. He bit, hard enough to bruise, light enough to not break skin.

 

Merlin gasped then moaned, causing a jolt of pleasure to burn Arthur’s veins before pooling on his belly. If this was what Merlin sounded like from a single mark, Arthur couldn’t wait to-

 

A throat cleared loudly behind them.

 

Arthur’s hand clenched on his Trident, his other arm pushing Merlin further in his embrace, as his head snapped to the source of the sound. Arthur didn’t see it, but his features went feral in the moments before he registered his **mother** standing a few feet away, eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

 

Consciousness beat instincts then, as a wave of embarrassment threatened to drown him. Once more, his mom had caught them in a compromising situation. He didn’t know whether to curse his luck or thank Ygraine profusely. Merlin didn’t deserve to be mauled as if Arthur was an animal, much less in a place like that. Worse yet, in the middle of an atlantean crisis.

 

Ygraine’s face was blank, before a mischievous grin decorated her lips. “Now that you got that out of your systems… Welcome back, my son.” She greeted him warmly, causing his blush to double in intensity.

 

Was this what having a mother was like? He didn’t know if he liked it.

 

Arthur nodded at her before he turned back to the beauty in his arms. Merlin was flushed, out of breath and seemingly dazed. On his neck, a bruise was blooming stark on his pale skin. Arthur felt like crowing in pride and slapping himself for his daring.

 

Then, Merlin’s eyes blinked into focus and he bestowed Arthur with a breathtaking smile.

 

Well…

 

Arthur’s brain may have fried a little.

 

“Merlin, my dear, your things are still in the camp. It will be best if we set out soon. Arthur, do you know the way out?” Ygraine said, turning to him at the question.

 

“Uh, y-yeah,” he stammered, his mind still slow.

 

Merlin nodded at her, and left Arthur’s arms to retrieve his pouch. Ygraine walked closer to Arthur and placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“What was _that_?” Arthur asked her, addled, watching the object of his desires walk away.

 

Ygraine hummed. “You just won over a great weapon of massive power. It’s a high achievement, so your instincts awakened. Moreover, you haven’t claimed each other. I would say your atlantean nature is looking to rectify that.”

 

Arthur frowned and looked at her with uncertainty. “Isn’t that…? Doesn’t that take away Merlin’s choice, if I’m pushing like that?”

 

Ygraine chuckled, combing a hand through his blond hair gently. “My little prince, I can most assuredly tell you that if Merlin is responding to you like _that_ , you are most definitely his choice.”

 

A glowing feeling, like a burst of happiness, filled his chest. Arthur smiled at his mother, and she beamed back at him. Maybe somewhere along their adventure, without noticing, Arthur had started his romancing scheme.

 

If his mom said he was doing ok, considering she was more versed in this atlantean stuff than him, Arthur believed her. Ygraine lifted her fist and gestured for him to do the same. They fist bumped, which was ridiculous but still put a lopsided grin on his face.

 

He couldn’t wait for Uther to see Ygraine; for them to see each other. They deserved it.

 

Merlin returned and Ygraine nodded at Arthur. He explained what to do, and they all set out to the waterfall. His mom didn’t even look back at the place that had housed her for years.

 

Submerged, floating leisurely down to the sealed cavern entrance, the trio stuck together within the light of the Trident. When they reached the ground, Merlin swam closer to Arthur and grabbed his hand.

 

“I’ll help you direct the magic, until you learn to do it yourself,” he said and Arthur agreed. They were ready to start when a hulking shadow approached them.

 

Ygraine hissed at it, placing herself between the creature and her children.

 

“Wait, mom! Aithusa wants to come too!”

 

“What?” Ygraine asked blankly.

 

“Who’s Aithusa?” Merlin piped in with a frown.

 

A rumble, like a laugh, echoed in the space surrounding them. The large sinuous sea snake appeared, watching them.

 

Arthur coughed. “This is Aithusa, the karathen.”

 

Incredulous silence was his response. Arthur could only shrug. Ygraine, taking it one step at a time, murmured her name as she bowed her head slightly in the direction of Aithusa, who simply blinked at her. Merlin hesitated, so Arthur introduced him instead.

 

“Aithusa, this is Merlin, also known as Prince Emrys.”

 

Aithusa raised her head and studied the sorcerer closely. Merlin frowned back at her and stood his ground.

 

_Greetings, Emrys, Young Primal. How fare thee?_

 

Merlins started and Arthur eyed him in concern.

 

“Y-you said…?” Merlin stuttered before gathering himself. “Umm greetings? I’m doing well, and yourself?”

 

Arthur’s eyes widened. “You can hear her?”

 

 _Of course he can,_ Aithusa scoffed. _You’re both holding the Trident._

 

That wasn’t entirely accurate. Merlin was holding Arthur’s hand, while Arthur’s other hand held said weapon.

 

“Does that work with anyone?” asked Arthur.

 

 _No._ She didn’t elaborate.

 

Arthur sighed, wishing he could drag a hand down his face in exasperation. Instead, he turned to Merlin and gestured at the Trident.

 

Together, they closed their eyes. Arthur could feel a tug at the back of his mind, where Merlin’s thread was. He could also sense the sorcerer within him, more intimate than any touch they had shared thus far. Merlin guided him to the Trident’s connection, activating its power and then leaving Arthur to finish himself.

 

It felt easy. Normal. Like breathing. 

 

The Trident pulsed softly, in tandem with the beat of his heart. Then, above them, a massive circling cloud appeared, blue lightning flashing inside. They all looked up. They all swam in.

 

It was like crossing a door. One moment they were in the cavern. In the next, they were outside the gates to Lemuria. Aithusa let out a strident screech before lunging at the darkness. No Trench creatures approached them.

 

Beside him, Ygraine took a deep breath.

 

On his other side, Merlin laughed, enchanting and wild.

 

Arthur himself grinned, triumphant. It was time to stop a war.

 

( **It** had been almost five days since they had let the pair of princes leave on their own. Now, Leon felt like saying screw it and going back to hunt them down.

 

His crew, his friends, all worked seamlessly to navigate the battleship at the very back of Mordred’s march. They had been lucky that the King had been so entertained with his invasion, he hadn’t noticed the Elite battleship’s return. They kept far enough away to not be suspicious, but close enough to observe the King’s movements.

 

Leon had been worried at the presence of Fishermen and Xebel. That meant only Brine remained out of the alliance, which made Mordred’s next step obvious. From the looks of it, they were getting close to the borders that housed Nanauve, capital city of the crustacean race.

 

Gawain came into the bridge then, after having finished his rounds checking on their prisoners. The majority was kept on lockdown, but with Valiant awake and making noise, the others were getting angsty.

 

Leon deliberated on their next course of action when Lance exclaimed in surprise.

 

“It’s Merlin!”

 

 _That_ called all the knights to attention. Quickly, they all convened on the main desk where a good sized hologram hovered. There was a message opened on the screen. It seemed their princes had been successful.

 

A feeling of anticipation swept over Leon. His prince - nay, his _King_ \- was coming.

 

“Lance, provide our coordinates to his Highness,” he swiftly ordered. Then, he gazed at each one of his gathered friends. “Gentlemen, prepare for action.”

 

There had never before been a more enthusiastic group on the cusp of war.)

 

When Merlin announced Mordred’s location, Arthur had mixed emotions on the upcoming conflict. Here was the climax to this unbelievable ride of his, that started the moment a fey prince stole his breath away in the docks of his quaint little town. He should have known that Atlantis, and Gaius, would never leave well alone, but since it allowed him to actually meet Merlin? Arthur would not have it any other way.

 

However, first things first.

 

They had to get to where Mordred had taken his army. Merlin and Ygraine had exchanged glances when they got to that part of the message. If Arthur wanted to stop Mordred in time, he needed to protect the Brine Kingdom from Mordred’s clutches.

 

Or, at least stop them from joining Mordred. If he got named Ocean Master, which would essentially be High King among the kingdoms of the sea, it would be infinitely more difficult to dethrone Mordred.

 

“We are already in the Pacific, but reaching the south all the way from here won’t be easy, or fast,” Arthur voiced his concern.

 

“There is a portal that could take us, but we have no watercraft. It would still take time to reach it,” added Merlin.

 

“And time is the one thing we do not have,” Ygraine’s frown carried the weight of a mother’s worry.

 

_Perhaps, I could be of help._

 

“Aithusa? You would help us?” Arthur’s words made his companions start, as they all looked around for the creature who had left them in the dust earlier.

 

_You forget, Young King, I offered my services to you when the Trident accepted you. Thus, you may ask for anything you need that is in my power to grant…_

 

_But I reserve the right to refuse, of course._

 

Arthur laughed. Of course.

 

Then, a heavy pressure started to build up around them as water got suddenly displaced. From one moment to the next, a colossal shadow appeared underneath them. There stood Aithusa, in what Arthur believed was her true form, the karathen form. He was back to feeling like an ant.

 

Aithusa didn’t delay. She didn’t make it any easier, either. The trio clung to the ridges above her head as the karathen swam, unhurried, in the direction they needed. Why would she need to hurry? Her size alone meant a distance traversed faster than a regular watercraft. If she did make the effort, it would be akin to a warship at full speed.

 

There was still no need. They reached the nearest portal, an undersea one, that Merlin had mentioned. They warped. When they appeared next, Arthur was unsure they had even moved. Everything looked exactly the same, but the instant he felt the current he knew their location.

 

_Here we are. I can hear them now. Pathetic battle cries, puny weapons. You mortals amuse me, truly._

 

Arthur didn’t comment. Instead he turned to his companions.

 

“I cannot get involved,” were Ygraine’s sudden words.

 

“Mom?”

 

“No, Arthur. Between you and your brother… this is a conflict I cannot be a part of. My time as Queen came and went. It is yours now. Go, fight for your title. I will be there at the end. But right now…”

 

Arthur was unsure what to feel. He hadn’t expected to have his mother besides him in the first place. But she was alive, they had found her, and now here they were, about to go their separate ways again.

 

Out of nowhere, Merlin hooked an arm around Arthur’s neck and buried his face in it, in a half-embrace. Then, the prince’s lips kissed the underside of Arthur’s jaw before lightly nipping it.

 

Instantly, a shiver coursed over Arthur’s whole body. Appeasement, his instincts whispered. His mate was appeasing him.

 

Before Arthur could do anything, like sweep Merlin off his feet, said sorcerer swam away to take Ygraine’s hand.

 

“I will escort her as close as possible to Atlantis’ main warship. Gaius will most definitely be there. Then, I will go find you. Remember, the sooner we get to Mordred, the lesser the casualties.”

 

Arthur sighed, simultaneously forlorn and energized. “How will you find me?”

 

Merlin grinned mischievously. “With a mount like **that**? I won’t even have to look!”

 

They separated. Arthur remained on Aithusa, watching two of his loved ones get farther away. He frowned, the Trident glowed in response and Aithusa rumbled underneath him.

 

They both turned towards the flashing lights in the distance.

 

“Think we can make an entrance?”

 

 **_Oh_** _, Young King, nothing else would please me more…_

 

Arthur was slightly afraid of Aithusa’s tone. She seemed to be enjoying all of this, a little too much.

 

( **Mordred’s** face had on a savage smile. With his trident in hand, and the Brine King at his feet, he felt on top of the world. No one had ever had a greater victory-

 

The ground shook and the sea rushed, as one by one the undersea plates broke and exploded outwards. The Brine army scrambled away from their stronghold, located a good distance outside of Nanauve, as said structure crumbled in the wake of a massive creature bursting out of the earth.

 

It was colossal. It was monstrous. It stood over the collapsing armies while friends and foes struggled to get away, and it unleashed a deafening bellow. Everything within the vicinity of Mordred’s invasion paused for an interminable second. When it stopped, silence swooped in on its wake.

 

Such a creature could only be the karathen. It had woken? Here? Now?

 

Mordred wanted to both curse the gods and stab someone. He opted to tighten his hold on his trident and ready himself to command the armies to attack. All oceanic people had been taught to expect the arrival of such a creature, prepare for it, and fight for survival.

 

Yet, his words got stuck in his throat the moment he noticed the golden shine on top of the monster. A trident, held by a very familiar yet unwelcome figure, was raised an instant before a massive power wave blew out of it.

 

All animals, whether trained mounts of the armies or just random fauna passing by, converged at the very edges of the battlefield. The karathen screeched again before sweeping a tentacle and destroying a nearby warship.

 

Afterwards, it was pandemonium.

 

Mordred howled his command. They attacked. The ocean attacked back.)

 

In the midst of every available canon shooting at Aithusa, Arthur let his hold on the Trident’s power ease a little. Immediately, he felt her respond to his mere thoughts and, with no need to hear his commands aloud, Aithusa reacted.

 

It was like being connected to a million minds at the same time. It wasn’t particularly difficult. Arthur’s orders just needed to be simple. Defend yourself, attack until they cease, do not kill unnecessarily.

 

The last one was a little difficult for someone like Aithusa to follow, and she was beyond reasoning now. Nonetheless, the King bid and the creatures of the sea obeyed.

 

With the Trident a comforting weight in hand, Arthur unleashed his new power. Around them, darkening clouds gathered as blue lightning descended on the farthest battleships, rendering their canon’s useless.

 

Schools of fish swam in the faces of attackers. Sharks and dolphins bit what equipment they could to render them nonoperational. Trained mounts turned on their owners, trainers or riders. At some point, even Trench creatures joined in. Their hunger was a little harder to leash, so Arthur didn’t bother.

 

His distraction on that subject, however, earned him a very accurate and painful shot to the chest. His armor held beautifully, but the concussive energy blew him away from Aithusa and he fell to the middle of the chaotic battle.

 

Arthur shook his head and prepared to dive into the conflict, but a call from behind had him looking around.

 

“Arthur!” He heard among the battle cries, sea creature thoughts, and bombings from the atlantean weaponry.

 

Arthur turned to look at the source, and barely stopped himself from taking the figure in his arms. Merlin swam towards him, halting at arm's length and looking as gorgeous as ever.

 

Arthur swiftly searched for any injuries, finding none, and gazed quickly at the hulking figure of a killer whale at the back of his friend. It seemed Merlin had been riding the animal through the battlefield. With barely a thought, Arthur mentally asked it to protect Merlin at any cost.

 

“Arthur!” This time Merlin sounded frustrated at being ignored. Arthur turned to him, and swallowed back a very inappropriate urge at seeing how mad Merlin looked, red-cheeked and blue eyed.

 

One of these days, Arthur would not be responsible for his actions-

 

“We need to stop the fighting! Our people are getting killed, for no reason!” Merlin snarled, glaring around at the warships. No matter how many Aithusa destroyed, more swept in.

 

“How do you propose we do that?” Arthur asked, grabbing Merlin’s upper arm and swimming closer, wary of stray shots. His Trident glowed in the deep sea darkness, bringing a school of fish around their perimeter, hoping to hold back any attacks.

 

“I will find my father. If I get him to call a halt, half the fleet will stop,” Merlin answered, gazing back into Arthur’s eyes. “Arthur, you must find Mordred and defeat him. It is the only way Atlantis will accept following you.” Deep blues stared earnestly at him, and Arthur could feel his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

 

He was afraid. Of anything and everything, really. But at that instant, of being unable to resist Merlin for much longer.

 

“What if I can’t?” he asked, tremulous. He would allow only Merlin to see this vulnerable side of him.

 

Merlin smiled, certainty shining in his beautiful eyes. Arthur would like to believe that the pride also reflected in them was for him.

 

“Last time, Mordred made you fight in his element,” Merlin said, conviction in his every word. “This time, make him fight in _yours_.” The faith this man had in him would one day kill Arthur, he was sure.

 

But _oh_ , Arthur thought, what a way to go.

 

Merlin’s eyes shined, this time with something more than anger or confidence. Something solely for Arthur.

 

And the future king was totally helpless to stop the wave of love that his heart unleashed for this perfect creature in front of him. Arthur was sure, after all this time, that just like Uther and Ygraine, Merlin had been made just for him. The other side of his coin.

 

The hand holding Merlin’s upper arm briskly lowered to his small back, and with barely any force brought the warm body to Arthur’s firm chest. Now pressed tight to each other, Arthur had barely a second to enjoy their lower bodies touching before Merlin threw his arms around his neck and crashed their lips together.

 

Soft lips, warm cavern, salty and sweet taste, this was everything Arthur hoped it would be and more. Kissing Merlin was like standing in the eye of a hurricane, feeling raw power at his fingertips but wanting nothing more than to stay forever in the calm before the storm.

 

Arthur ran his tongue over Merlin’s lips before sucking his bottom lip lightly. Then, he swooped inside to massage their tongues together, flicking his to caress the roof of Merlin’s mouth. Merlin melted into Arthur, letting him lead, letting him dominate. Arthur was only too willing.

 

Their bodies moved in sync, pushing closer and undulating together in the water, senseless to time and place. Merlin raised one thigh against Arthur’s waist, shoving their groins harder together, escalating the need in Arthur to have this gorgeous man. 

 

Their desire was obvious to each other now. Oh, how Arthur wanted to bring him to completion, for making him feel like he had everything in the world he would ever need.

 

But, when he tried to use his other hand, the obvious weight of the Trident reminded Arthur of their current circumstances.

 

Arthur’s mind fell back from the heaven found in Merlin’s mouth. His body followed, deliberately slowing down their heated dance, lips letting go to allow for a much needed oxygen supply.

 

Arthur panted, opening his eyes to stare at Merlin’s passion grown pupils, kiss-bruised lips and flushed cheeks. Unable to help himself one more time, Arthur leaned in again, brushing their lips softly and feeling them tingle.

 

And Merlin _let_ him.

 

If only he could just let the world damn itself, and run away to hide this alluring prize of his.

 

The blonde hero swallowed, his throat inexplicably dry amid the ocean. “So, what was the plan again?” Arthur’s voice was hoarse from the previous intense activities.

 

Merlin threw his head back and laughed, a pearl of a sound that Arthur wanted to keep in his heart forever. Better yet would be to make Merlin laugh like this always, so he could enjoy it directly from the source to the end of his days.

 

“The plan is to not get killed!” Merlin exclaimed, an exhilarated smile illuminating his features.

 

“Right,” Arthur answered, still a little drunk on Merlin, who rolled his eyes and let go of his neck.

 

Strangely bereft, Arthur watched as his - friend, companion, brother-in-arms, not yet lover?... _everything_ \- swam back to his whale ride. Merlin gazed back over his shoulder, a smoldering look on his eyes, made even more so by the molten gold that started consuming his irises.

 

Arthur swallowed again, and turned away. He was definitely not getting killed, before he could have his way with _that_.

 

He mentally called a nearby armored seadragon, and took hold of its reins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 19: Clash of the Titans
> 
> The brothers battle it out again for the right to the throne, after which the victor accepts his new status and confesses to the love of his life.
> 
> \---------
> 
> Next week on the Verse' One-Shot: To Become a Queen
> 
> “After all, she had vowed to be the greatest Queen. She would make them all proud.” Background exposition of the early years of Xebel and Atlantis, from the eyes of Morgause.


	19. Clash of the Titans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers battle it out again for the right to the throne after which the victor accepts his new status and confesses to the love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY!
> 
> Oh my gosh, it's past 3am and I'm finally done! I actually liked this chapter, and I hope you all like it too. Forgive me any typos, I always try very hard to fix those but I have been writing all night so I may have missed a few.
> 
> Jeez this chapter practically wrote itself, it just took me a while to get in a writing mood. Also, it kept going! I swear I wanted other things to happen here, but it would be a monster of a chapter AND you wouldn't have gotten an update nearly as fast. Anyways!
> 
> I just wanted to say, there will be smut! I promise! As a side story! But, unfortunately, you'll have to wait until after next chapter to get it :/ Also, please don't expect much and you won't be too disappointed :P
> 
> We're nearing the end! There will be a sequel. Eventually. Goodness knows I gotta start outlining it first.
> 
> Enjoy this update~

~*~*~*~

 

**Kingdom of Brine - Northeastern border of Nanauve**

 

Merlin was barely winded by the fight.

 

A few atlantean knights had recognized him as a traitor and tried to stop him. Most others were just fighting on instinct, trying to take him and anyone else out. Both Brine and Atlantis were battling on two fronts, half aiming at each other and half running away from Aithusa.

 

It was mayhem.

 

Some xebellians identified him right away and moved out of his way. Others tried to speak or catch him, probably in an effort to claim him back for Xebel, where Atlantis could not touch him. It mattered little to Merlin. He pushed through, ignoring whoever he could and disabling the rest.

 

Half his mind was focused on the battle, his aim being his father. The other half was… trying to catch his breath.

 

Arthur’s kiss had robbed him of reason. It had consumed his thoughts. Addled him more than any other caress the prince had bestowed on him during their quest. It was intense. It was dangerous. Merlin could get addicted. Probably already was.

 

Seeing Arthur’s lust blown pupils and _knowing_ that if they were not in the middle of a war his King would have easily stolen him away, had given Merlin such a thrill!

 

All the magic in the world could not compare to having the power to make Arthur tremble with just a look, just a touch.

 

Merlin swallowed hard.

 

His instincts screeched and he rolled out of the way of laser fire. An instant later it stopped and he turned to see a knight holding a shield beside him.

 

“Are you alright, Your Highness?”

 

“Percy?”

 

Another knight, in the distance, swept his sword at the opponent’s weapon before knocking him out of the fight. He turned around and Merlin caught a glimpse of his face. It was Lancelot.

 

When his friend swam closer, Merlin thanked them both.

 

“Where are we going, Merlin?” Asked Lance, sword at the ready. We as in the two would not let Merlin out of their sight. He sighed but didn’t bother to fight them on it.

 

“To see my father.”

 

Neither protested and when Merlin continued on his way, the two fell in position at his back. Merlin kept a careful eye on the battlefield. If Arthur had found Mordred, the atlanteans would have signaled it somehow. Likewise if he had been captured. Merlin had faith Arthur would defeat his brother, but he still had to fight Atlantis’ military to reach him.

 

“He’ll be alright, Merlin,” called out Lance, which meant his worry was clear on his face. 

 

“Leon is en route to him,” added Percival, quietly confident. Merlin pursed his lips, touched at his friends’ attempts at comforting.

 

“Gawain, too.” 

 

Lance’s statement had Merlin feeling both better and uneasy. Gawain had a particular personality, after all, and he had not interacted with Arthur before. Why would he fight for him? Or should for that matter? 

 

All his friends were sacrificing a lot by getting directly involved in the conflict. Merlin bit his lip and kept going. The only way he could protect them was to succeed.

 

( **Gawain** was indeed very curious about the famous Arthur. All of them were. Meeting him in the middle of battle or hearing about him from Merlin and Leon was not the same as truly knowing the guy. He seemed trustworthy and honorable if nothing else. A capable fighter. But would he be a dependable leader?

 

He braced his rifle against his shoulder and accurately downed several opponents who had been aiming at Leon. Both of them continued on their way, Leon taking point and causing many Atlantean soldiers to hesitate with his presence alone. In the distance, the glint of a golden Trident marked their target.

 

Regardless of his current doubts, Gawain knew the golden princeling would eventually earn his loyalty. No doubt about it, since Leon was incorruptible and Merlin was the best of them. If they would kneel for Arthur, Gawain would most certainly end up following their lead.

 

For now, it was enough that this guy was important to his friends. Gawain would be damned if he allowed anything to cause Merlin’s tears.)

 

A seadragon neighed nearby. Merlin dodged, as it came charging his way. He ignored its rider in place of diving underneath a second seadragon. Arthur had probably gotten distracted once he became involved in the fight, which must have loosened his mental hold on the sea creatures.

 

Percival body checked the first rider off his mount. Lance intercepted the second’s sword strike with his own. Merlin grabbed hold of the steeds with aquakinesis and directed them towards his killer whale friend, which had been following him since his meet up with Arthur. It swooped down on the dragons with a vengeance. 

 

As an afterthought, his hand came up to grab a spear - no, _Trident_ \- that was suddenly swinging towards him. The hit had no force behind it, and when Merlin turned to look at his reluctant attacker, he paused.

 

Well, that was one way of reaching his goal. It seemed King Balinor had the same idea as Merlin.

 

Father and son stared at each other. One was exhausted and relieved, the other one was angry and resolute.

 

Balinor blinked first. He looked at his knight guards, currently engaged with Merlin’s friends, and sighed. “Let them pass,” he called out.

 

Immediately ceasing, the guards still kept a careful watch over Percy and Lance. Both side-eyed Merlin, and relaxed their stance when the prince nodded at them.

 

“What troubles you have brought this time to your lord father’s doors, my son.”

 

Merlin frowned severely in response. “None you didn’t bring on yourself first, Father.” Then, unable to help himself any longer, Merlin exploded. “What were you thinking? Waging war against the surface is one thing, but to bring conflict to our borders by instigating hostilities with the other kingdoms? You’re doing the one thing you always despised from Lot! Father, no, _King Balinor of Xebel_ , this campaign has drawn bloodshed from all sides, has shaken the very foundations on which the kingdoms of the sea were established **and** has most likely caused enmity from our allies. Innocents were involved, soldiers that followed orders to fight against fellow Atlanteans, all for the purpose of eventually crusading against humans? There are other ways, _better_ ways, the friction with the surface could have been mended, _peaceful_ ways, that would not have involved destroying ourselves!”

 

Around them, xebellians found themselves lowering their weapons and their guards, listening with both awe and shame at their beloved prince. King Balinor remained stoic, but he seemed to age the longer Merlin spoke.

 

“Arthur Pendragon stepped up, in this our moment of weakness, to protect his human world from us by accepting a role he didn’t want, in order to minimize damage and loss to atlanteans. He was forced to this because we were stupid and threatened his own.”

 

Merlin’s words were emphasized by a far away crash, explosion and awed calls from fellow soldiers. When he peered over his shoulder, Merlin could distinguish the golden glow of the Primeval Rule.

 

“What role is that?” Asked a quiet Balinor. Merlin gazed back at him. “The role this Arthur didn’t want.”

 

Merlin’s eyes flashed, with both pride and regret. “King.”

 

“He commands the Trench?!” A voice yelled from a nearby skirmish before a Fisherman, one who Merlin recognized as Princess Elena, approached within the battlecycle used by her race. “That atlantean, he not only came riding on the karathen, but he brought the Trench with him!”

 

Awed mutterings swept over the xebellians around. Atlantis’ soldiers exclaimed their confirmations on Elena’s observation.

 

Merlin straightened. “King Balinor, call for a cease fire. Halt your fleet’s attack. One of the seven treasures, Atlantis’ Trident, has chosen a wielder and, by our most ancient laws, he now stands as King. This crusade is no longer valid, for Mordred is no longer a ruler. If you refuse to abide by the request of your ally, Atlantis, to stop this war, then our allegiance is severed.” Merlin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, before entreating. “Father, please, don’t allow our traditions, our very nature as atlanteans to be destroyed because of one man’s ambition. Let it go.”

 

King Balinor’s eyebrows twitched before he exhaled. Princess Elena looked anxiously between them.

 

“Call a halt. Xebel abides by the new King of Atlantis’ request. There’s no need for war.” Balinor announced, directing his order to a nearby vassal so his words could be spread among the rank and file. Then, he looked at the soldiers from Atlantis. “The man known as Arthur is already your King, you would do well to consider it.”

 

Elena’s battlecycle moved closer to Merlin, her face had a complicated expression when looking at Balinor. Shyly, she asked Merlin, “A treasure the man may wield, and by law he may be King, but the people won’t accept it as easily since he has not earned the right, no?”

 

Merlin smiled at her, bowing in greeting, before answering. “The Trident gives him the right to call for a combat of Kings. Arthur will challenge Mordred, and win the position once and for all.”

 

Balinor grunted. “But the fact that he has the Trident at all, means there is no way he will lose.”

 

Merlin believed it. But that didn’t stop him from worrying about his clotpole.

 

Elena frowned in thought before announcing, “Fishermen stands with Atlantis’ new King. It will halt hostilities and renege on war… at this moment.” One of her vassals retreated to relay her orders.

 

Merlin thought Elena’s words were strange, and a frisson of unease traveled down his spine. He was missing something here...

 

In the distance, the bellow of the karathen resounded before the colossal beast veered away from the battle and swam off, leaving destroyed warships on her way. Brine clansmen pulled away towards their destroyed fortress in an effort to gather their strength. Xebellians didn’t follow, and the Atlanteans wavered between the two.

 

A loud exclamation got everyone’s attention, and they turned to look at Arthur speeding to the surface, followed by Mordred without his tylosaur. Merlin prepared to swim after them, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Balinor gazed at him, inscrutable, before requesting “Witness it with Xebel, Merlin.”

 

Gently, Merlin shook off his father’s hold and turned his back on him.

 

“I stand with Arthur, with Atlantis now, Father.”

 

Then, without hesitation, he propelled himself away, vaguely feeling Percy and Lance flanking him. Atlantean soldiers fell behind them, in formation. Even after the tumultuous fight, the unstable political situation, and the labeling of traitor of the one they now followed, Merlin had always been an adored figure to Atlantis who inspired stability. He still was.

 

They breached the surface. Merlin stared at the center stage made up of a destroyed warship where Arthur and Mordred stood facing each other. Lance nudged him before pointing at a nearby battlecraft that hovered barely out of the water. They climbed aboard the topside and turned to witness the challenge. Moments later, Leon and Gawain appeared beside them.

 

With their prince and a very well-known and liked Elite Knight in attendance, all Atlantean soldiers converged around the battlecraft. Xebel’s King and his knights appeared to the south. Fishermen’s Princess and her entourage appeared to the east.

 

To the west, the Brine representatives looked on from within one of their remaining warships. Their race, like the Fishermen in their natural state, needed water to breathe above the sea boundary.

 

Suddenly filled with a sense of anticipation, Merlin prepared to witness the rise of his King.

 

^~^~^~^

 

**Kingdom of Brine - Near the battle fortresses stationed outside of Nanauve**

 

Ygraine found herself hesitant to act. 

 

After they had left Arthur and Aithusa behind, Merlin and her had swam around the edge of the battlefield to reach what she recognized as Atlantis’ royal battle fortress. When the explosions started, however, Merlin’s constant preoccupation made Ygraine stop them half-way. 

 

Her little seadragon fought her on it, but she was ultimately victorious. Ygraine watched him go back to Arthur, where he belonged, and she continued on her way, wary yet confident in her children. The xebellian royal battle fortress appeared in the distance, and Ygraine had the feeling that a certain pair of princesses were onboard. She would get to them, in time. Right then, Ygraine had another mission.

 

Out of nowhere, an energy sword lunged at her from the side, barring her way. She halted, tilted her head slightly and sighed. Her bright blue eyes gazed at the group of soldiers, atlanteans, that dared brandish their weapons at her. She was prepared to fight her way out, as gentle as possible, these were youths after all, when the man in the front flinched back and dropped his sword.

 

“Q-Queen Ygraine?!”

 

Ygraine blinked, peered closer at the young one and her mouth when ‘oh!’ with surprise. “Is that you, Leon?”

 

“Are you serious?” Another one in the group mock whispered. The others simply shrugged, but one did answer with an “It _is_ her. But how…?”

 

“Your Majesty,” Leon breathed before bowing to her. The others followed suit, despite her immediate denial.

 

Ygraine sighed in exasperation, but her lips twitched into a helpless smile nonetheless. “Leon, no need for bowing, this is not the time nor the place.” Her words were emphasized by the battle sounds behind them.

 

“Um… my lady, how is it that you are here?” Ygraine thought the one who asked was named Lancelot. She vaguely remembered the small, polite son of the royal archivists. She eyed him closely before smiling at them all.

 

“My Arthur rescued me, but that is a tale for later. Right now, you are all going to him, are you not?”

 

They looked at each other, hesitatingly, before nodding. Leon stepped up, a proud leader for this eclectic group.

 

“My prince called on us, Your Majesty, and we will answer. But, we cannot leave you alone. Let us take you somewhere safe while the battle rages.”

 

“No need, Knight Leon,” Ygraine waved him away, resolute, expecting her words to be heeded. “Continue on to your princes. Arthur rides the Karathen, Merlin swims to him as we speak. I’m headed to the atlantean battle fortress myself, in search of my advisor. I do ask you, however, why is it that you alone navigated an elite warship?

 

“Ah, she noticed that…”

 

“Gawain, the darn thing is parked behind us.”

 

Leon cleared his throat. “Mordred’s Elite knights have been incarcerated, Your Majesty, so the princes could continue their quest unhindered. We, ah, took command of their warship as well. Now, you may not wish to hear this but, for our peace of mind if nothing else, at least let some of us guard you on your way.”

 

Ygraine huffed, entertained by the brazenness of this youth. He would serve Arthur very well, in the coming days. “Oh, alright. I will accept only one… you!”

 

The dark skinned young man pointed at himself incredulously, before shooting a helpless look at his friends. The tallest one patted his back.

 

“All of you, go now. The outcome of a battle can be decided in an instant. Find the princes, keep them safe.”

 

Knowing an order when they heard one, the group dispersed. Without even talking to each other, they broke off into pairs and each headed in different directions. Ygraine looked at her newest guard and asked for his name.

 

“My name is Elyan, Your Majesty.”

 

“Then Elyan, let us go as well.”

 

They swam towards the fortress, which was not too far away. The boys had kept the Elite warship nearby, which was rather daring of them considering its hijacked status. Ygraine smiled to herself.

 

“My lady, you wish to find Gaius, correct?”

 

“Yes. That old starfish will probably get a heart attack when he sees me. Wouldn’t that be funny?” The silence from her companion was rather telling. This time, Ygraine grinned.

 

Elyan coughed, awkwardly looking anywhere but at her. “Right. During the time we were on the warship, we discovered within the daily transmissions that Mor-I mean, King Mordred, ordered Gaius’ arrest. He was stripped of status and rights, and is currently held in the main deck of the royal fortress.”

 

Ygrained hummed in response. How she yearned to find her youngest son, to wrap her arms around him and never let go. But, it wasn’t to be. Not yet, at least. She had faith in Arthur. He would win, and he would make the right choice when it came to his brother. And by the gods, Ygraine would have her _whole_ family back soon.

 

“It is no matter,” she answered Elyan. The doors to the ship were getting closer. “If I wish to get to Gaius, I will get to him.” Her tone of voice never changed, but Elyan didn’t question her nor said anything else throughout their self-imposed mission.

 

Ygraine may not technically have the title anymore, but that made her no less a Queen. Once upon a time she had been both feared and venerated, and that had never really changed.

 

They burst in. They swept through. Ygraine had, absentmindedly, obtained a sword from one of the fallen guards and proceeded to sweep the floor with anyone that approached. Elyan, bless his heart, appeared to have stars in his eyes when he looked at her. He was a capable fighter, smooth in his stances and very accurate in his shooting. He would probably make a good commander. She may have to mention it to Arthur.

 

With her knowledge of the layout, they arrived quickly at the main deck. By then, the whole ship had been made aware of their presence. Not that it mattered. Half the crew was frozen in disbelief of her, the other half in fear. No one had been known to survive the Trench.

 

Worse yet was the fact that, by then, they had witnessed the Trench among the sea creatures fighting their comrades on the battlefield.

 

“Gaius!”

 

The old man, her most esteemed advisor, turned as much as he could in his chains, to watch her enter the deck she had once owned as Queen. His eyes went wide, his mouth agape, but the hilarious image was marred by the fact he was being treated so low.

 

Ygraine snarled, her sharp eyes focusing on the captain of the ship standing mere feet away from her. “Release him,” she ordered quietly. She was immediately heeded.

 

“My Queen… Ygraine,” Gaius breathed, while a few attendants removed the chains from his limbs. Swiftly, Ygraine took his hands in hers and bowed to them. Startled, Gaius tried to tug his hands from her hold. “No! My Queen, you cannot-! To this lowly one-!”

 

“Gaius,” Ygraine murmured, raising her head and revealing a complicated expression. “You took care of him, of _them_ , to the best of your ability. You held out for as long as you could, you brought my son to his heritage, and you guided my youngest one despite his darkened nature. You have always been the most capable within Atlantis, out of all of us… and you have always been my greatest friend. I thank you.”

 

Gaius bit his lip, lowered his head and bowed to her. Ygraine accepted it. The man was a proud servant of Atlantis and her royal line, he would not allow her deference again.

 

“Then, I was right, Arthur is…”

 

“Yes, he gained the Trident, conquered the beast, and is now in search of his brother to end things,” her pronouncement drew gasps from the remaining crew. Elyan hoisted his rifle, keeping a careful eye for any sudden movements. “Gaius, Arthur is… beautiful, so much more than I could ever imagine.”

 

Gaius, weary, smiled and nodded at her words. “Indeed. Him and Merlin together are a sight to see.”

 

Ygraine’s eyes crinkled, shining with delight, as a breathtaking smile settled on her lips. “That they are.”

 

“Look, there!” The captain exclaimed, and everyone turned to watch their King chasing the holder of the Golden Trident towards the surface.

 

Gaius took command. “Remove the anchors. Prepare to surface. Atlantis’ future will be decided by combat and we must witness it! Quickly now, we must not miss a single moment!”

 

While he lead the rest of the crew to navigate the fortress, Ygraine got close to the main window. She laid a hand on it and watched the scenery go by as they ascended. When they breached, a contingent of people from the rest of the kingdoms had already surrounded the broken warship where her children stood.

 

A combat of Kings. A clash of titans. Whatever the result of this battle was, it didn’t change the fact that Arthur and Mordred were the two most powerful beings in Atlantis. Theirs was the future of the kingdom. One had brought it to its knees. The other one would surely raise it above the clouds.

 

The other kingdoms would follow in Atlantis’ wake, ascending their heirs to the throne and paving the way to a new era. Ygraine could hardly wait.

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Kingdom of Brine - Middle of the battlefield**

 

The seadragon swooped low then veered right. Arthur did his best to keep his hold on the reins. Everywhere around him were soldiers fighting schools of fish, a few whales using their bulk to their advantage, and a swarm of Trench creatures rushing to devour stray atlanteans and brine warriors.

 

Arthur swallowed hard and kept going.

 

Aithusa was slowly regaining her sense of self, her mindless destruction becoming more focused. She sent a silent query his way, and he mentally answered her. With a quick look, he decided to head away from her, where the atlanteans seemed to have gathered. He could probably find Mordred there, and Aithusa would leave the second he engaged his brother, her purpose complete then.

 

His ride neighed loudly, rearing back to Arthur’s confusion. Immediately after a large, hulking form appeared from underneath them, snapping large jaws too close for comfort. Arthur clutched his Trident, but could do nothing more than swat away the laser fire that was suddenly focused on him.

 

“We meet again, half-breed,” Mordred said between bared teeth. His face was clearly contorted under the half-masked helmet he wore. Arthur frowned.

 

“Mordred, stop this war. Can’t you see the people dying? What use is an invasion plan with no army?”

 

“This is your doing! My people wouldn’t be in this mess if you had no brought these creatures here!”

 

Aithusa’s loud roar backed his words but Arthur didn’t even flinch. “Even if I hadn’t come, you brought them to fight another kingdom. Lives would have still been lost.”

 

“For the greater good! I was seconds away from claiming control over the Brine. That would have given me the mightiest fleet in the world! Enough to bring the human world to bear-”

 

“For what purpose! To stroke your ego? Killing innocents just because you can, doesn’t make you powerful.”

 

Mordred snarled. “What would you know about being powerful. All your life, you have been nothing but a half-breed. You can’t understand the pain, the suffering our people have withstood under human hands.”

 

Arthur bared his teeth in response. “The sea is far older than the land. But you can’t have one without the other. Humans live in ignorance and denial, true, but it is only few that actively abuse the sea, merely because it exists. And you can’t blame the whole for the few. Suffering needs healing, not vengeance. What would more bloodshed accomplish?”

 

“Satisfaction of our instincts!”

 

“We are creatures of reason, not instinct! No matter how much stronger they are on us!”

 

“ _This_ is why you will never understand. Our blood calls for this, sings for this. You must be broken, if you can’t feel it!”

 

Arthur sighed, and looked pityingly at an increasingly unhinged Mordred. “I’m afraid you’re the only one that feels it, Mordred. And you’ve dragged everyone else into it. Can’t you see? You’re doing exactly what I’ve heard your father did. But, at least his excuse was that he was a mighty bastard that wanted to lord his power over those he had no control over. You? You are just a brat who justifies it with empty words, but you’ve really caused this needless conflict simply because you hate me.”

 

Mordred howled, spurring his tylosaur to lunge. An energy cannon fired on him, and the tylosaur twisted sharply to dodge. Arthur turned to watch a panting Leon, a few steps behind him, lower a big gun from his shoulder.

 

“Pay attention, princess!”

 

Another knight, one Arthur remembered as Leon’s friend, materialized out of nowhere to cover his back from Mordred’s atlantean soldiers follow-up attack.

 

“Are you alright, Arthur?” called out Leon, dropping the gun to the sea floor in favor of his sword.

 

Arthur opened his mouth to respond, when the rumble of Mordred’s steed signaled his return. Clutching his Trident again, this time Arthur centered himself on the feeling of power, tugging at the string in his mind that led to his weapon. The Trident purred, before a deadly bolt of energy fired from the prongs, clipping the tylosaur’s tail and making it roar in pain.

 

Arthur, and his companions, gaped for a second. “I meant to do that,” he said, inanely.

 

“Sure you did, blondie,” commented the very disrespectful knight, who patted his shoulder condescendingly without taking his eyes off Mordred’s cursing figure in the distance. “Name’s Gawain, by the way. Soldier extraordinaire, future lover of Merlin-”

 

“ **What**.”

 

“-and very much interested in staying alive. So, shouldn’t we be going?”

 

Leon sighed, holding his head while shaking it in exasperation. Arthur’s eyebrow twitched, wavering between pummeling the guy and gazing incredulously at Leon.

 

“No escaping? Really? Alright then, fighting it is!” With a whoop, Gawain propelled himself into the group of soldiers surrounding Mordred, who were trying to calm down the roaring tylosaur.

 

“I will kill him.”

 

“He was joking, Arthur.”

 

“He better have.”

 

Leon silently bemoaned his future before following his friend. Arthur took a deep breath, noted that despite Gawain’s words his instincts had felt in no way threatened, and headed towards his brat of a brother. Right then, all his focus was on fighting Mordred, defeating Mordred and claiming everything that Mordred called his. That’s what it would take to stop the war, and any future conflict involving the human world.

 

If that also meant claiming Merlin, well, his instincts thrilled at the idea and Arthur was more than happy to comply.

 

His seadragon rushed at the tylosaur, and they clashed in the middle. Both steeds roared, bit at each other and bucked off their riders.

 

Arthur held his Trident, chased the same feeling as before, and fired a bolt at the tylosaur which went wide when Mordred swung his silver trident in defense of it. Arthur smirked before propelling himself upwards, to the surface. Mordred gave chase.

 

Aithusa roared one last time before heading away, deeper into the ocean.

 

Arthur, remembering an off-hand comment from Merlin, followed the mental thread of the Trident and asked it a question.

 

_?_

 

_!_

 

Whether it worked or not would be evidenced soon. Arthur, spying a destroyed warship floating above water, veered to it. When he burst out, he jumped over it and landed on his knee.

 

Mordred did the same, landing in a crouch.

 

Above them, the sky rumbled as a storm formed. Lightning flashed, even as the sun rose in the east. Rain started coming down. The Trident had done it; here was Arthur’s dramatic background.

 

The brothers faced each other, studying their opponent intently. Around them an audience gathered, but they paid them no mind.

 

Arthur slammed the butt of the Golden Trident on the floor. Mordred clicked his tongue in annoyance.

 

“Whatever the stories say are surely an exaggeration. The weapon, it looks nothing like its imposing depictions describe. Don’t think that will win you Atlantis. It doesn’t change the fact that you are a mere half-breed.”

 

“Whether or not the Trident is exactly like the legends matters little to me. What it does do, is allow me to challenge you. Right here, right now, a combat of Kings!”

 

Mordred laughed mockingly. “What makes you think the outcome will be different this time?”

 

Arthur took his weapon and held it horizontally to his chest. “We’re fighting on my element, neither land nor sea.”

 

Mordred grabbed his trident with both fists and held it vertically in front of himself. “This won’t change anything!”

 

Arthur took a deep breath. “Then let my blood shed, until the Gods make known their will.”

 

They swung. They parried. The weapons resounded with the strength of their hits. When one thrust, the other one dodged. When one pounced, the other one leaped. When one charged, the other one dove.

 

One by one their strikes met and got rebuffed.

 

Mordred got impatient, but Arthur remained stoic. The world narrowed to that moment, that place, the longer the fight went on.

 

Since his younger brother had trained all his life underwater, Mordred was used to swinging a trident under the weight of the sea. As such, his speed was dangerous. However, he was used to the drag, not the unresistant air. He was getting clumsier, overreaching and leaving himself open.

 

Arthur, on the other hand, was physically stronger by nature and by practice. During his stunts as Aquaman, he had fought a varied amount of people, of different abilities and personalities. Diana had the strength of a demigoddess and he could keep up with her. Also, there was no one wilier than the Bat. So, while Arthur had not kept up with his underwater training, he knew his way on the surface.

 

Mordred was faster but Arthur was stronger.

 

Lighting crashed on the choppy waves, as they kept fighting for the right to be King. In an instance of carelessness, Mordred rushed him and Arthur took advantage of an opening to punch his brother’s solar plexus, sending him away.

 

Nobody said a fight with Tridents had to be _only_ with Tridents.

 

Arthur swung the Primeval Rule in an arc, touched the prongs to the shallow water at his feet and twisted the weapon on a full rotation. He kept at it until a translucent shield of water formed before him. He hoped Gaius was watching somewhere. That old starfish would probably get a kick out of seeing him use this.

 

Mordred stood up. He studied the shield before sneering. Arthur could see the moment his brother decided his technique was nothing impressive. He was wrong. Mordred’s trident clashed against the shield and was reflected without effort. He tried again and again, with no change. He stroke once more but this time Arthur made sure to let the tridents collide. He held his stance, but the impact sent Mordred flying back.

 

With his brother addled, the instant his trident was raised over his head, Arthur rushed in and smashed the Golden Trident against the shaft of the silver one. It broke, like glass crashing into thousands of pieces. Mordred’s fingers convulsed on their now empty hold and disbelief stole over his features.

 

Remembering Ygraine’s pearlescent quindent and how it had broken under Mordred’s tireless assault, Arthur felt vindicated.

 

He took his weapon, aimed the deadly prongs at Mordred’s throat and pressed forward. His brother closed his eyes.

 

Silence.

 

The thunder halted, the rain lessened and lightning flashed one last time. The waves calmed. The audience held their breaths.

 

There was no blood spilled. And if Arthur had any say on the matter, there would be no more that day. Enough lives had been lost.

 

Mordred opened his eyes, blinked then narrowed them into a glare.

 

“Kill me.”

 

“Yield.”

 

“It is our way. One must die for the challenge to be complete.”

 

“You gave me a choice, the last time.”

 

“That was before we fought, you idiot!”

 

Arthur huffed before straightening, slamming the butt of the Trident to the floor until it could stand on its own. “I don’t want your death. It’s enough that I won. The throne is mine now, isn’t it?”

 

Surprisingly, Mordred rolled his eyes. “You can’t pick and choose which traditions, rules or laws you want to follow and which you don’t. It doesn’t work like that. If you insist on being like this, the throne will eat you alive.”

 

“Is that concern I hear, brother?”

 

“ **Kill me**!” Mordred’s yell echoed.

 

There was a pause, before a very firm voice ordered, “ _Enough_.”

 

Arthur gazed over Mordred’s head, while his brother twisted on his knees, to watch their mom step onto the broken warship that had been the site of their fight. She had changed out of her worn bodysuit into a simple tunic. Her matted hair was draped over her shoulder. Truthfully, she looked very tired but, to Arthur, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

At least, until he laid eyes on Merlin again.

 

Mordred’s broken whisper of “Mother?” made Arthur uncomfortable. Ygraine fell to her knees in front of her youngest, cupped his cheeks and stared into his eyes. Tears fell from her eyes seconds before she wrapped her arms around Mordred and hugged him tight.

 

Arthur smiled.

 

While Ygraine was murmuring sweet nothings, explanations and rebukes, Mordred’s eyes went red-rimmed. He didn’t cry, but his lip trembled despite how hard he clenched his jaw. He kept looking at Ygraine as if she was a vision, a beautiful dream that would be snatched from him at any moment.

 

Arthur turned away and found Merlin a few steps back. His heart skipped a beat. Here was his gorgeous mate, unhurt, with his pearl barrettes shining on his dark hair, exactly where Arthur had placed them. He swallowed hard and extended a hand towards Merlin. It was taken without hesitation.

 

Leon and the others formed a semi-circle around them. Arthur nodded at them before turning back to his family, who had stood up, a little more composed.

 

A throat cleared nearby, and Gaius appeared. In his hands he carried a pearl circlet which he presented to Ygraine. Graciously, she dipped her head to receive it. It looked delicate on her brow, and Arthur thought he had not seen his mom wear anything that suited her better.

 

“Welcome back, Queen Ygraine,” said Gaius. Then, he bowed low. Immediately, every atlantean present followed him. Even Merlin bowed his head. Arthur wavered, but the moment passed and Gaius straightened. “Now, Mordred, son of Ygraine, you have been stripped of your title of King by one who proved worthier than you. As such, your status as a Prince is reinstated, and the charges brought to your name will be evaluated in trial, until a fitting punishment is found. Until then, take him away!”

 

A unit of soldiers detached from the main bulk and walked forward to fulfill Gaius’ order. With no fight left in him, Mordred allowed his hands to be bound. Ygraine kissed them, before letting the soldiers take him away.

 

“I will find you later, brother!” Arthur called out. When Mordred looked at him over his shoulder, Arthur nodded. “We will talk then.”

 

Mordred gave no indication he heard him, but Arthur still felt lighter. The group walked into the sea and was promptly swallowed by the waves.

 

Arthur let his body relax from the ordeal of these past few days. He didn’t even remember how long it had been. He should probably call his dad.

 

He felt Merlin squeeze his hand before he raised their arms proudly towards the sky.

 

“As the wielder of the Golden Trident, and the victor of the Combat of Kings, to the people of Atlantis and the representatives from the kingdoms of the sea, I present to you King Arthur!”

 

Merlin’s announcement was embarrassing, but Arthur didn’t care. A breathtaking smile grew on Merlin’s lips as the audience started cheering. The end of the combat meant an end to the war, after all.

 

Overwhelmed with a sudden urge, Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist and hoisted him up.

 

“Arthur?!” Merlin exclaimed before breaking out in laughter when Arthur spun them around. The newly appointed king couldn’t help but smile at the pretty picture Merlin made in the light of the morning sun. Gently, Arthur lowered his precious cargo until his feet touched the ground. But he didn’t let go.

 

Breathless, Merlin asked “Why did you do that?”

 

Arthur shrugged. “I felt like it.” Merlin rolled his eyes, but the smile was still on his lips. “What do I do now?”

 

“Now?” Merlin repeated, jokingly. “Be a King, of course!”

 

Arthur hummed, then he dipped his head forward to steal a kiss from those tempting lips. Merlin’s arms wrapped around his neck, and the kiss deepened slightly. Merlin moaned quietly, and Arthur answered with a low growl.

 

Conscious of the thousands of eyes on them, Arthur ended it quickly. Content with the brief taste if only because he was already planning on finding them a private room later, Arthur gazed into the eyes of the beauty in his arms.

 

With sunlight on his hair, water droplets on his lashes, and his reddened full lips, Merlin’s irresistible self pulled the words out of Arthur.

 

“I love you.”

 

Merlin’s eyes went wide. Arthur’s whole body froze. At least, the chanting around them never stopped, so it was safe to say no one else had heard him. Silver linings and all that.

 

“You _what…_?” Merlin breathed. Arthur closed his eyes and let his head fall forward lightly. Their foreheads touched.

 

Arthur took a deep breath. “Without rhyme or reason, as inescapable as the moon shifts the tides, and truthfully from the moment I saw you again standing on the docks of my little town, Prince Merlin of Xebel, you stole my heart completely. And since you are the other side of my coin, I have no intention of getting it back.”

 

Merlin’s eyes shined brightly. “Then, King Arthur of Atlantis, as I am yours, so you are mine. From today onwards, we stand together with or without a crown.” He cupped Arthur’s cheeks tenderly, then placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “I love you too.”

 

Arthur’s heart soared. This was a new beginning for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Chapter 20: Crowning Glory
> 
> A long awaited reunion leads to Arthur accidentally securing the hand of a mischievous Merlin. Happily Ever After?


	20. Crowning Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited reunion leads to Arthur accidentally securing the hand of a mischievous Merlin. Happily Ever After?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so all so much for accompanying me in this adventure. This was my first fic, my first project which I had the absolute intention of finishing. And here we are, the last chapter in this story, but not in this universe.
> 
> The sequel will be posted. Sometime. Eventually. When I actually write it. For now, I hope you all like this small snippet into the beginning of their amazing life as rulers of a great kingdom.
> 
> Merthur forever~
> 
> Also, the smut happens somewhere in the middle of Arthur's POV, and I'm pretty sure you can easily figure out where. It's posted as a side story so I don't have to change the rating in this fic. Don't expect too much of me though! This is my very first smut! :0000
> 
> Enjoy!

~*~*~*~

 

**Kingdom of Brine - Near Xebel’s Royal Battle Fortress**

 

Merlin felt like he was floating on a current, he was that happy. If he could, he would revel in the moment. Arthur's confession had been sweet and heady, so much more than seeing him stand victorious over Mordred had been. However, what happened next sort of put a damper on his mood.

 

Once the cheering died down, his father had come barging into the warship where their group was gathered. His expression thunderous, Balinor had proceeded to _request_ Merlin accompany him to the xebellian fortress. Everyone had straightened, Merlin had dragged a hand down his face in exasperation, and Arthur had glared mulishly in response. Balinor stared back, unimpressed.

 

To diffuse the situation, Merlin quickly agreed. Arthur had simply sighed, swiped his thumb on Merlin’s cheek tenderly while sending him a positively smoldering look, and let him go. Merlin could swear he swooned.

 

On their way out of the atlantean circle, Balinor did stop to silently greet Queen Ygraine. If there was anyone his father truly respected among his fellow royals, it was her.

 

Obstinate as he was, Merlin refused to talk to his father now that they were on their way. Sensing someone at his back, Merlin looked over his shoulder to see Percival accompanying him. Somehow, he knew it was his stubborn friend’s - and _Arthur’s_ \- idea.

 

Merlin had very publicly declared his standing with Atlantis during the combat. As such, everyone that had heard him understood that he sided with Arthur. In all his life, he had never taken such a stance with Mordred. Regardless of what the future held or what Balinor attempted to do, Merlin would fight to remain at Arthur’s side. After all, the golden prince had won Mordred’s position, rights and responsibilities. This included his fiancé.

 

Not that Merlin would insist on it unless Arthur wished it too. Still, he blushed at the thought.

 

The xebellian contingent marched impressively through the sea, guarding closely their king and prince. Stoically, Percival remained nearby as an impressive wall of muscles ready to defend Merlin. The royal fortress had moved closer during the combat, and it was now waiting with the main gates open. Inside, hovering proudly at the end of the ramp, were the two princesses. His sisters.

 

Funnily enough, it felt like a shudder traveled down the spine of everyone present.

 

Morgause was glaring up a storm. Morgana was coldly beautiful in the faint light. Both waited for their family, patiently impatient.

 

The ladies bowed their heads at their king, but their attention was soon focused on their wayward brother. Without a blink, both grabbed a hand each and dragged Merlin away. Balinor remained behind, forgotten. Percival did manage to follow.

 

Slightly dreading the sisterly interrogation, Merlin was nonetheless happy to see them. When the doors to the heir’s chambers closed, ensuring their privacy and barring Percy’s entrance who simply turned to guard, Merlin was smothered in a Morgana hug. Morgause swept her hand over his hair, uncharacteristically gentle.

 

“You are alright,” Morgana murmured, tightening her hold as if she wished to never let go. Merlin returned the hug just as tight.

 

“Of course he is. He’s our brother. He knows better,” said Morgause. Her expression twisted, grew complicated for a moment, before she sighed and drew her arms around her siblings. “Hunith is going to kill you, by the way, for pulling this stunt.”

 

Merlin laughed. “I don’t think anything can dampen my mood right now. Even mother’s scolding!”

 

The three let go and took a seat on the bed, which was enormous enough for all three to cuddle if they wished.

 

“Oh? Do tell?”

 

Morgana’s mischievous tone made Merlin roll his eyes. “You should both know by now. Mordred was deposed by his brother, Arthur, and Ygraine is back, alive and well.”

 

Morgause gazed at the ceiling, to hide her expression on the whole Ygraine topic no doubt, and Morgana squeezed his hands, glowing in her happiness at the news.

 

“We heard.”

 

Merlin smiled, before he felt his cheeks blush. “Arthur is, well, definitely her son. Golden bright and unfailingly noble. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

 

“Ruggedly handsome too?” asked a grinning Morgana. Merlin shrugged, but Morgause’s sharp laugh had them both turning towards her.

 

“Seriously, Merlin?” wondered Morgause, incredulously. “According to you, wasn’t he an obstinate, brutish sort of man?”

 

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but was beaten to it by Morgana saying, “Brutish or not, he is the King of Atlantis.”

 

“He isn’t King yet,” pointed out the blonde beauty, reasonably. “Not until the crowning, technically. Besides, the other one was King too, what difference does this make?”

 

Morgana hummed, then shrugged. “This one may hold it for longer.”

 

“Enough!” exclaimed Merlin, sounding a little petulant. His sisters had a way of getting to him. “His _name_ is Arthur, he holds the Trident, and he may be brutish, but he is _my_ brute, so there!” Somehow, uttering those words aloud did not make him feel any better.

 

Morgause and Morgana looked at each other, and then turned back to their little brother with similar smirks on their faces. Merlin shivered.

 

“Oh my, is he now?” Morgana asked, brow raised.

 

“Tell us Merlin, have you tasted him yet?” followed Morgause, licking her lips and batting her eyelashes.

 

Merlin rolled his eyes, and huffed. He knew if he did not answer their inquiries now, he would be setting himself up for a more embarrassing situation later on.

 

“Not that it is any of your business, but yes,” he mumbled, crossing his arms defensively.

 

His fair sisters’ delighted features would cause nightmares on any who saw them, Merlin was sure.

 

“No way!/Merlin, you sly dolphin,” both ladies declared, pouncing on their prey of a brother.

 

“How far did you go?” Morgause asked.

 

Merlin, with his face burning red, answered, “Just a kiss.”

 

“Where and when!” followed Morgana.

 

It was like they were living vicariously through him. Merlin sighed, “During the battle, before I found father and he challenged Mordred.”

 

“Well, that was a little irresponsible of you,” said Morgause, her face betraying the wicked pride she felt for her brother at that.

 

“How was it?” wondered Morgana, winking.

 

Merlin’s eyes unfocused as he remembered the scene vividly. “It was… powerful,” he breathed.

 

Morgana looked thrilled; Morgause looked disgusted. The blonde mocked, “Did he sweep you off your feet?”

 

“Powerful how?” Interrupted the brunette, swatting at her sister, knowing what she was trying to do.

 

“Time stopped,” sighed Merlin, still lost in thought. “And I could swear he would have ravaged me, if we did not have to save everyone.”

 

Morgause looked intrigued now. “Not because it was the middle of a battle? But because you had to save your people?”

 

Merlin nodded, distracted. “I think if it wasn’t our people, he would have damned the world,” Merlin smiled, helplessly. “And I would have let him.”

 

Morgana seemed ready to burst, and Morgause whistled. “Just for a fuck? My respect,” she muttered, nodding firmly.

 

This brought Merlin back, blushing and wavering between defending Arthur and embarrassing himself further. He swallowed his response, and let his sisters have their way.

 

“Oh, I knew he would make the best one-true-king for you!” exclaimed Morgana, wriggling happily before stopping dead in her tracks. Morgause burst into laughter, bending over in her sudden breathlessness.

 

Merlin’s ears rang and his heart skipped a beat. There was only one reason his sister would say such a thing.

 

“M-Morgana… you _Saw_ this?” he asked, quietly, his shimmering blue eyes growing wide in disbelief. His face gained an unconscious, disappointed pout and, to the sisters, the world suddenly turned colorless. They hated making Merlin sad.

 

Regardless, Morgause gasped for breath and swept her hand through her brother’s black locks, tousling them. She turned towards her sister, shrugging. “And here I thought I would be the one to give it away. I was never subtle, either!”

 

Morgana sighed, and nudged Merlin playfully, whose pout had given way to a thoughtful expression.

 

He turned to her. “Why did you not tell me?”

 

“I could not risk changing anything, little sea dragon. Your interactions with him had to be genuine.”

 

Merlin frowned, slightly upset but understanding what his sister meant. Her dreams were never crystal clear, and she often kept her silence by instinct rather than choice per the whispers of her power.

 

“... also, it would not have been half as funny.”

 

Morgause chortled, surprisingly inelegant but free to do so in the privacy of her chambers. Merlin sighed as Morgana patted his head mockingly.

 

“I’m glad my suffering amuses you both so.”

 

“It amused Gaius tremendously too,” remarked the blonde. Morgana’s scolding ‘Morgause!’ went unheard after Merlin’s loud ‘Gaius knew?!’.

 

Morgana clicked her tongue in exasperation. “We did not tell him, - oh, don’t look at me like that! There was no betrayal of confidence! - Gaius _suspected_. Half his library is comprised of old prophecies and most of them allude to a One True King of the Seas. I think he somehow realized that the time was coming for said individual to appear, then you were born and Ygraine returned with news of a secret family… He was truly the only one to put it together among all the other elders.”

 

Morgause snorted in derision. “Ignorant and unnecessarily complicated as adults always are.” 

 

That was one of her favorite sayings since she was a child. Merlin would have sent her a look, which was his usual response, but he was too busy hyperventilating at all the recent revelations.

 

“Nevermind that you are an adult as well,” Morgana answered in his stead, dryly. Morgause stuck out her tongue at her, mumbling something along the lines of ‘but a child at heart’. Merlin cared not for that argument at the moment.

 

“So, you mean to tell me, that since I met Arthur when the Motherbox was stolen and I spent all my time ranting about him, you have been laughing behind my back.”

 

There was a momentary pause before Morgana’s and Morgause’s responses of “That is correct/Pretty much, yeah” were heard.

 

Merlin felt despair, and a muscle twitch start in his temple. He groaned. “Now I understand Gaius’ sly remarks, and the eyebrow-of-doom looks he sent my way often enough this past year.”

 

The sisters held their silence, loudly amused without saying a word. But then, the second princess gathered herself and stood up abruptly.

 

“Well, we are going to meet him!” declared Morgana, with a decidedly wicked expression on her fey features. A golden flash of her eyes had the ladies’ circlets floating to their hands. “Nevermind him being the future king, if this Arthur is going to keep my brother he better make a good impression.”

 

Morgause smiled, fond. Merlin slapped a hand to his face and sighed, defeated.

 

“Just so you know Merlin,” said Morgause, watching their sister march imperiously through the chamber doors towards the main deck of the vessel. “When I am Queen, I will make his life miserable for the heck of it.”

 

Merlin nodded, resigned. “I would expect no less from you.”

 

~~~*~~~

 

**Kingdom of Brine - Atlantis’ Royal Battle Fortress**

 

Arthur felt vaguely nauseous.

 

Both him and his mom had been taken - _paraded_ \- through the ranks of soldiers who had suddenly lined up perfectly on the sea. Everyone had calmed down once they noticed Aithusa gone. The magic Arthur used to hold the animal kingdom faded after his victory, so that contributed to the solemn atmosphere. Under Gaius watchful eyes, they swam through the saluting atlanteans, closely guarded by Leon and his friends.

 

Arthur felt Merlin’s absence keenly.

 

They reached a giant watercraft. Leon murmured in his ear that it was called a battle fortress. This particular one was the royal vessel, the flag ship. Inside, the general crew was mostly absent although every time they saw someone, they would bow to Arthur.

 

Gaius led them to what Arthur understood was the bridge. The ship captain and the driving crew practically prostrated themselves the moment the doors opened.

 

Arthur had a sneaking suspicion that these people expected him to punish them in some way. Why? Just because Mordred was no longer in charge? That didn’t mean Arthur was going to suddenly fire people, tear down existing hierarchies or procedures, or make any changes whatsoever.

 

But they didn’t know him. Not yet. They probably thought him either a brute with no brains who won by strength alone, or a devious half-human dictator who could become a tyrant. Maybe they thought his father was like Mordred’s. Maybe their opinion of humans was overall very low. Or maybe, like Gaius said, his challenge for the throne when he first showed up in Atlantis had provided an unflattering image of himself to the masses, one that even the honor of wielding the Trident could not completely quell.

 

Silence permeated the room as Gaius simply frowned at the crew and Ygraine gazed back at Arthur meaningfully. Well, he was never one to pussyfoot around anyone or anything.

 

“At ease,” Arthur said, but it was taken as an order that was followed immediately. He ploughed on. “What’s the status of the other warships?”

 

The captain startled under the sudden attention, but he made a gesture and his people returned to their positions. “Several were lost, but a few remain. We tried to keep away from… from the creature as much as possible, so the fortress received no damage.” A pause. “Your Majesty.”

 

The last was said awkwardly, like an afterthought. Arthur ignored it. “The remaining ones, will they be enough to carry all the soldiers home?”

 

The captain blinked. He eyed a crew member posted at the main computer, who nodded hesitantly.

 

“Good,” Arthur answered, sharp. Both flinched, then gaped, probably because he didn’t wait for an answer from the captain. Just because a lower ranked person was the one who knew the answer? Arthur didn’t blink. “Organize them and let’s set sail for Atlantis the moment the last one has boarded.”

 

“Sire,” Gaius called. “The fortress can go ahead of the others, if you so wish.”

 

“We wait,” Arthur answered, decisive. Gaius smiled. Uncertain, Arthur turned to his mom who simply shrugged.

 

“I understand, Arthur. It is best to regroup in Atlantis. Your father and I can wait a little longer.”

 

Immediately, all eyes turned away from them to focus intensely anywhere else.

 

“I promise I’ll take you to him, but…”

 

“Of course my child. Let the people come first.”

 

Arthur frowned but ultimately nodded. He looked at Leon.

 

“Can you escort my mom somewhere she can rest?”

 

Before Leon could say anything, Gaius piped in. “I will escort the Queen, Sire. Worry not.”

 

Arthur huffed. “Then, can we find a private room or something I can retire to?”

 

“Of course, Your Majesty. You can follow me.” Leon was, annoyingly, prompt and overly formal in his response. When they walked out, his friends followed.

 

No one disturbed them and they reached what looked like a meeting room quickly. The second the door closed, Arthur collapsed in a chair and rubbed his face with both hands.

 

“Leon, what the _hell_ did I do.”

 

Arthur felt Leon kneel beside the chair and place his hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

 

It was a rhetorical question. Nonetheless, Leon answered. “What you needed to… What you were meant to.”

 

Arthur sighed and leaned back. Leon removed his hand but remained by his side.

 

“In a very impressive way, too, princess. Care to share where you met such a lovely pet?” Ah, that was Gawain. Arthur owed him a punch to the gut for his comment on Merlin.

 

“Gawain, if you know what’s best for you, you will _shut up_.” Elyan looked like he was going to have a headache.

 

“We’re glad you’re alright, Your Majesty.” Lance seemed like an unfailingly polite individual. “You and Merlin both. Your quest ended successfully.”

 

“Very much, if you remember the long-thought-dead Queen walking these hallways. How did this happen again?” Gawain was crass and apparently full of himself. Arthur was starting to understand their personalities. And he liked them.

 

“ **Gawain** ,” Leon said vaguely threatening. Arthur waved dismissively at him. He really didn’t mind.

 

“It’s alright, I’ll tell you. But I will say this first. Gawain, if you call Aithusa my pet again, within her hearing distance, I will not be responsible for her using you as an appetizer. Just to be clear.”

 

The others chuckled, confused on who Aithusa was, but Arthur remained serious. They took seats around the table and Arthur recounted his tale. Not long after he was done and they all sat contemplating the amazing adventure, Gaius walked into the room.

 

“Arthur, I see you’re making friends. Good. You can’t find better company than these knights.”

 

Gawain preened. Elyan shook his head, with a small smile on his face. Lance flushed while straightening in his seat. Leon didn’t react.

 

“Gaius, what brings you here?” Arthur wondered.

 

The advisor sat in the nearest chair available. “I’m afraid it’s several things, but most will have to wait. Your brother, Mordred, rests incarcerated in the fortress brig. I know you want to see him but, Arthur, I suggest you wait until we are back in the city.”

 

Arthur had straightened when his brother was mentioned. He frowned. “I don’t understand why, but I’ll defer to you on this. Are we on our way now?”

 

“Ah, we are about to. Per your orders, all soldiers have been retrieved and found a place for in the remaining crafts. But, there is the matter of the Elite warship that remains docked near Xebel’s fortress…?”

 

Leon stood up. “It was our ride, Gaius, and our responsibility now. Valiant and the other Elite who came chasing after Arthur and Prince Emrys are being held in the brig. We couldn’t risk announcing our presence before.”

 

Gaius waved a hand. “No worries, Knight Leon. We don’t need the warship to carry anyone else, but we do need someone to pilot it with the fleet.”

 

“I’ll go,” Elyan volunteered. “And you are coming with me.”

 

“Wha-me?!”

 

“Come along, Gawain, we have work to do.”

 

The pair left, despite Gawain’s loud complaints. Arthur watched them go, glad to see they treated him normally but still mystified at the relationships this group seemed to have. He wondered if he would be added into their dynamics and if he would fit in seamlessly.

 

“Can they drive it by themselves?”

 

“It isn’t difficult, but it takes focus and a quick hand. It’s why Elyan took Gawain. Despite the size of the ship, no one can pilot better than him among the fleet.” Lance’s explanation surprised Arthur. He supposed everyone had their depths of character, including the playful Gawain.

 

“The moment they hail us, we’ll set out to Atlantis,” said Gaius.

 

Arthur got worried. “What about Merlin? He’s still with his father. Should we call him back?”

 

Gaius raised an eyebrow, while Lance and Leon exchanged a telling look. “Your prince will not travel with us, and no you don’t need to worry about leaving him behind. Xebel’s fortress will sail with us.”

 

Arthur relaxed. He missed having Merlin by his side, as he had been during their quest, but he supposed they couldn’t always be together. Still, he reached for that thread in his mind and, poking it, received the pearl of a sound that was Merlin’s laughter as a response. Outwardly, he nodded.

 

“Then, let us go back to Atlantis.”

 

The trip wasn’t as fast as riding on Aithusa had been, but it didn’t take long either considering the distance traveled. The Kingdom of Brine was, after all, in the south pacific while Atlantis was in the south atlantic. They must have used a hidden pathway because they arrived inside of a day.

 

Arthur had not seen his mom in all that time. When he asked, he discovered that Ygraine had stayed mostly inside her assigned rooms but she did spend time in the brig. He couldn’t fault her. Having Mordred there, but being unable to see him made Arthur extremely irritable. No matter what he had done, or his bratty attitude, Mordred was still his brother. Arthur was happy that Ygraine had no trouble seeing her youngest son. 

 

The fleet entered Atlantis without fanfare. Not that it was expected, but the people was most likely shocked at the reduced number of warships returned. It would be better after the soldiers disembarked, since the loss of life was far smaller than the loss of ships.

 

Arthur didn’t know what to feel. This was his second time stepping foot in Atlantis, the other side of his heritage, the place of his mother’s birth. Yet, the fact that all of it was his now, to rule and to guide, hadn’t really set in. It was probably the same for his people. He wondered if they even knew.

 

Due to the massive size of the fortress, it docked on a special place by the fleet assigned area on the outskirts of the city. When they swam out of the main gates, Arthur spied the hydro cannons in the distance, on top of the canyon walls surrounding Tintagel. Truly, how strange it was to stand unhidden and undisturbed within Atlantis, when days before he had been chased out under deadly fire.

 

His skin tingled, and he had the sudden urge to seek his mate.

 

His new group of friends gathered at the entrance to a watercraft which had been summoned to take them to the castle. Arthur and Ygraine boarded, and Leon and the others escorted them. Gaius remained behind to coordinate Xebel’s docking.

 

The castle looked even more imposing from the front. And beautiful.

 

It was late at night and most of the lights had been dimmed. Few servants were working at those hours, but they were still attended swiftly upon arrival. Leon murmured softly to the others before they left, leaving his old friend as their sole escort. Somewhat impatient, Ygraine waved away the stuttering servants as well as the attendants that had gone pale with surprise at her presence. Instead, his mom signaled him to follow and they left the gaping audience behind.

 

The Trident glowed softly within the halls.

 

“This is the royal wing,” Ygraine said, swimming forward to open the huge set of doors framing the end of a hallway. Beyond, there were several closed doors inside of which must be rooms. “This is as far as you go, Leon.”

 

“My Lady-.”

 

“Knight Leon, remember your place. Until such a time you are of rank, none but the royals or the highest can step foot inside this wing.”

 

Leon bowed immediately at her admonishment. Nonetheless, he didn’t move from his place by his side, until Arthur himself waved him away. His friend needed sleep as much as everyone else involved in this adventure. None of them had really slept while on the way to Atlantis. No doubt, there hadn’t been any rest either on the days before the conflict.

 

Once alone, Ygraine swept forward and hugged him tight. Arthur breathed her in, solid, real, and right _there_. She let go and squeezed his hands, before winking playfully and pulling out a small container from her robes. She put it inside one of his jacket pockets, patted it, sent a look over his shoulder then swam away. Arthur blinked, confused. At least, until a shiver traveled down his spine. With sudden awareness, he turned around to watch his beautiful mate swimming hurriedly towards him.

 

With a mischievous grin in place, Merlin crashed into him. They spun, laughing and being generally silly.

 

“Merlin! How- Why are you here?”

 

“Why, you didn’t want me?”

 

“Of course not!”

 

“I’m wounded.”

 

“That’s not what I meant. I _always_ want you.”

 

A pretty blush appeared on Merlin’s cheeks, and Arthur resisted the urge to kiss him. At least, until he remembered that he was not only allowed to, they were both alone in the private hallway that lead to the royal wing.

 

“You prat,” Merlin said, affectionately. Arthur grabbed his hips and brought him flush to himself. Then they kissed, deep and languid, slow and sweet. Without the weight of the world on their shoulders, they were free to just be.

 

Merlin moaned, and a frisson of desire grew in Arthur. Perhaps it was time to fulfill his promise to himself, now that he had this beauty back in his arms.

 

They separated, pressing their foreheads together while trying to catch their breaths.

 

“Where’s your dad?”

 

“Still in the fortress. I think Gaius will bring them eventually and assign them guest quarters. They will stay until tomorrow, probably. I sort of escaped without their notice.”

 

Arthur chuckled, and kissed his nose. “Little minx, no proper prince would simply run away like that. And just to meet me?”

 

“Don’t be cheeky.”

 

Arthur hummed. “So, who’s they? Is there someone else aside from your father?”

 

Merlin’s face went blank, and suddenly he couldn’t meet Arthur’s eye. “Yes, my… sisters are in attendance. They, ummm, wanted to meet you immediately, but I sort of implied it would be best to do so tomorrow. Trust me, it will be better after a night’s rest, you’ll need your strength.”

 

Intrigued, Arthur studied the face of his companion. “You have sisters?”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened. “I haven’t told you?”

 

How strange. When they were together, it was like they had known each other all their lives. It was easy to feel comfortable with Merlin, teasing and flirting, nagging and talking. But, in reality, they hadn’t really met until that day in Amnesty Bay. There were millions of things that Arthur probably didn’t know about Merlin.

 

Yet, standing there, staring into those stormy eyes, he knew he wanted to know every single one.

 

Arthur cupped Merlin’s face, brushing his thumbs tenderly on his cheeks. “I want to take you to bed, Merlin. I want to make love to you. Before the world awakens tomorrow, I want to make you mine. Will you let me?”

 

Merlin’s breath hitched, and a dazzling smile settled on his lips. Combined with his reddened cheeks, Arthur could barely hold himself back.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Merlin breathed. Arthur placed an arm under his legs and the other one around his back before he hoisted Merlin up in his arms.

 

They chose a room and closed the door with finality.

 

...

 

The following day, the couple found themselves sprawled in bed, awake and sated, relaxed and peaceful.

 

“I think I wanted to devour you since the first time I saw you,” murmured Arthur, his mouth pressed to Merlin’s naked shoulder. The lights in the room glowed bright in the morning time.

 

Merlin purred in answer, stretching a little, obviously enjoying the firm warm body of his king at his back.

 

“Your moon-kissed skin,” Arthur said, kissing his beloved’s nape softly. “Your deep-sea colored locks,” he continued, playfully biting at the closest earlobe. “And your coral-pink lips,” he finished, mouthing a trail down the bare spine of the ocean sorcerer in his bed.

 

“Really?” answered Merlin, languidly, twisting in Arthur’s grip to face him. Arthur followed the movement with his lips, now mouthing at the revealed collarbone in front of him. He hummed in assent.

 

Swallowing a giggle at Arthur’s lips tickling his chest, Merlin asked somewhat disbelieving, “Back when you came to stop Steppenwolf from taking the box?”

 

“Oh yes,” Arthur breathed, remembering that day. That moment in time when he had practically swallowed his tongue at seeing the svelte form tightly hugged by the atlantean green armor, illuminated by the underwater lighting among the ruins of the outpost.

 

Arthur’s self-control had been tested, wanting to constantly slap himself awake, to keep focused on his task. Back then, Prince Merlin had cut a commanding yet sexy figure, with his long neck framed by the scarlet high collar of his suit, and his fey features highlighted by the golden circlet at his brow.

 

“Why don’t I believe you? I remember a ruffian attitude from a brutish man, very much uninterested in conversation. I thought you’d rather fight then look at me,” said Merlin, blinking at the marble ceiling, absentmindedly brushing his hand through Arthur’s blond locks.

 

Arthur chuckled, gently biting at a tempting nipple, making Merlin gasp and shiver. “There was a reason for that, _Mer_ lin. If I kept staring at you, you would have had to fend me off.” 

 

Merlin huffed, blushing deeply.

 

“Looking back, I might actually have been pulling your tails,” wondered Arthur out loud, to which Merlin stared at him as if he were unhinged, mouthing ‘tails?’ bewildered.

 

Then, Arthur laughed, hugging his slender lover tightly and warmly to him. “Had you not flashed your golden eyes during battle, I swear I may not have been distracted enough to let that monster take the box!”

 

Merlin frowned, indignant. “Are you blaming me for that now?!” He squirmed, trying to get Arthur to let go.

 

Not about to let him leave the warmth of his bed, when he finally got him in it, Arthur used his bulk to stop him. Twisting their legs to further tangle them, the king-to-be ground his growing arousal to the responding one of his lover.

 

“Never!” he answered, still chuckling. Merlin could not stop the pleased moan at his actions.

 

“What I meant, _Mer_ lin” said Arthur, emphasizing the name to grab his attention. Merlin blinked at him, dazed. “Is that your golden eyes are irresistible to me,” he finished, staring adoringly at his cherished treasure.

 

Merlin seemed to think about it. “Well then” he said, smiling wickedly.

 

Molten gold consumed deep blue, and Arthur was lost.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Amnesty Bay - Pendragon Lighthouse**

 

Merlin observed the pair from afar.

 

Arthur himself was vibrating with anxiety beside him.

 

They had managed to convince Leon and the others to remain back, to give privacy to the reunited couple. Leon had taken charge and lead the group to the nearby rocky area under the precipice from where Arthur and him had once dove into the sea.

 

Back in Atlantis, Arthur had given Ygraine her own small watercraft and told her to go to his father. What use was making the both of them wait any longer, was his excuse. The Queen hadn’t hesitated.

 

But what Arthur didn’t tell her was that they would follow closely behind. Right now, they floated a ways away, barely out of the sea, watching as Ygraine stepped into the dock and Uther rushed to her. Merlin’s heart felt full. The one person he had lost, all those years ago, stood now in the arms of the one who had given her the greatest happiness.

 

Their kiss, even from afar, seemed to be one for the books. A legend was born from their union, after all. It seemed like a perfect ending, to see them rise above tragedy.

 

Said legend took Merlin’s hand and squeezed. Merlin turned to watch Arthur, his beloved, his King, tear up at the image his parents together represented. A new beginning.

 

Merlin sighed, and sank slowly. He tugged at Arthur’s hand and he complied reluctantly. Instead of swimming away, however, Merlin lead him towards the lighthouse. When they breached the surface, they stepped carefully into the sandy beach, a few meters away from the rock-strewn area.

 

Uther and Ygraine hadn’t moved. They were hugging tightly, standing there against the sunlight and the wind, enjoying each other’s presence. They did turn to them for a moment, Ygraine shaking her head and Uther waving at them.

 

Arthur chuckled. No more tears were necessary.

 

Merlin wrapped his arms around him from behind, and rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder.

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

Arthur hummed. “That they, more than anyone I’ve ever met, deserve this.”

 

“To be together?”

 

“Free and at peace. I think my dad always knew it would end like this. He never lost hope that my mom was alive.”

 

Merlin tightened his hold. “It sounds like true love.”

 

Arthur leaned back and there they stayed, watching and waiting.

 

Then, Merlin couldn’t help but tease. “I can’t believe you escaped my family.”

 

Arthur shrugged. “I can’t believe I escaped Gaius.”

 

“My sisters will kill me for this. I promised them that you would meet them soon.”

 

“Hey! Who was it that ran away first? Only because you wanted a piece of this?”

 

Merlin stepped back and pushed Arthur playfully. “Prat. If I hadn’t, you would have come for me!”

 

“Too true,” answers Arthur, grinning and unrepentant. He lunged at Merlin, who skipped skillfully to the side. “Anyways, I’ll meet your sisters, don’t worry. They’re your family.”

 

Merlin kicked at the sand, sending some flying Arthur’s way. He spluttered. Merlin laughed.

 

Suddenly, Arthur tackled him. With an ‘oof’, Merlin fell, losing his breath under the weight of the blond. Arthur braced his arms on either side of Merlin’s neck and propped himself up. They stared at each other.

 

Swallowing hard, a blushing Arthur stammered, “so, Merlin, will you- do you want- would you like to, errr, be with me? Officially? Like together?” His awkward wording sounded so ridiculous that Arthur clenched his eyes shut and scrunched up his nose.

 

Merlin, on the other hand, felt his heart swell. “Yes! Arthur, yes, I will marry you!”

 

There was a pause. Arthur looked incredulous at Merlin. Merlin beamed back at him.

 

When the words registered, Arthur went beet red. “I wasn’t- wait, but isn't it too early…? _Mer_ lin you can’t just-!”

 

With a raised eyebrow, Merlin threw his arms around Arthur’s neck and tugged him down into a kiss. A long, deep, heady kiss, full of promises.

 

Breaking for air, Merlin whispered into Arthur’s lips, “I am yours and you are mine. Why wait?”

 

A gasping Arthur nodded, dazedly. “Marriage, right, totally.”

 

“My dollophead,” Merlin murmured, fondly, laughingly.

 

With a glint in his eye, Arthur swooped down for another kiss.

 

This was quite the ending. To a wild ride. 

 

And the beginning of an even better one.

 

^~^~^~^

 

**Amnesty Bay - Pendragon Lighthouse**

 

Uther’s days became longer after Arthur and his atlantean companion left. With no way of communicating, and knowing his misadventures were probably happening at the bottom of the sea, well...

 

It was a waiting game. And the ending was near. One he had been patient enough to wait for all these years.

 

He sighed.

 

Like any other day, the first thing he did after waking up was put on some clothes and walk out to the dock. Today, the sun appeared especially shiny under a cloudless sky. Uther had slept in but with no one else in the house, he didn’t bother feeling bad.

 

He paused at the door with his eyes closed, breathing in the salty air and wishing…

 

Wishing.

 

Uther took a step forward and opened his eyes.

 

In the distance, something glinted.

 

Uther blinked, stared, then rubbed his eyes. At the end of the dock, the rushing sound of water being displaced and a thump on wood signaled someone had climbed on.

 

Someone.

 

Uther’s heart skipped a beat.

 

Long blond hair. Matted. Barely held back in a long plait.

 

White bodysuit, decorated with scales shimmering in the sunlight.

 

Petite figure. No less deadly for it.

 

Without noticing, his feet hit the wooden planks, running towards that precious person.

 

She met him halfway.

 

The crash almost sent them toppling, the hit robbing him of breath. The familiar scent of sea and home invaded his nose as he buried it in her shoulder.

 

“Ygraine-!” Uther gasped, as her dainty arms went around his waist. Wheezing for breath, Uther raised his head only for her hand to bury itself in his hair and pull him down for a kiss.

 

Desperate.

 

Longing.

 

Hopeful.

 

How anguished he was, holding on to hope by the skin of his teeth. Days, months, years without her by his side where he knew she belonged.

 

The Pearl of the Seas, Queen Ygraine of Atlantis. His soulmate.

 

“My beloved,” she breathed on his mouth, unwilling to separate even when parting for breath. “Uther Pendragon, how much I’ve missed you!”

 

Tears welled and dropped, making a pathway down his cheeks. This time, it was the owner of his heart that tenderly thumbed them off, like he had done once on the day of their separation.

 

The urge to kiss her senseless filled him. So he did it, unashamed to plunder her mouth and stake his ownership of her lips. Breaking off but still held tightly together, Uther buried his nose in her hair as Ygraine buried hers in his chest.

 

The calm sounds of the sea around his lighthouse served as background to this reunion.

 

“I _knew_ you would come back. I _knew_ it!”

 

Ygraine hummed, raking her nails down his back, causing shivers down his spine. Her breath dampened his shirt, just as the rest of her dripped on the docks. These little things proved to Uther that it was not a dream.

 

She really was back.

 

A splash from nearby made them turn slightly in place. In the distance, a pair of young men appeared among the waves, walking towards the beach.

 

Ygraine huffed. “Of course they came.”

 

“Arthur?”

 

“And Merlin.”

 

“Ah, yes, the prince. The other side of Arthur’s coin.”

 

Ygraine shook her head at the pair before turning to look up at Uther. He waved at his son and his companion, before looking down at his Queen.

 

“You knew?”

 

“That they belong together? They weren’t subtle about it. They revolved around each other within hours of their meeting.”

 

Ygraine laughed. Fresh, loud, beautiful.

 

“They still do!”

 

They stayed, hugging, swaying with the wind, looking at the children playing in the sand.

 

When Arthur knocked Merlin down to the ground, Uther clicked his tongue. “So rough.”

 

Ygraine, cheeky, responded with “You like it too!”

 

Feeling a blush on his cheeks, Uther didn’t deny it. “Definitely your son, then.”

 

Ygraine’s beatific smile was a sight to see. Then, she gasped with delight.

 

“Our son is getting married!” She exclaimed in wonder.

 

Uther choked. To the Queen, the comment may have been easily acceptable, but to Uther it was the most shocking news after the return of his lover.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I just heard them. My ears have gotten better. A legacy from my exile.”

 

Opting to leave asking about her exile for another time, he instead gazed worriedly at the pair still sprawled on the sand.

 

“Is that wise? They met just weeks ago.”

 

Ygraine slapped Uther’s shoulder gently in admonishment. “It is very wise of Arthur to claim Merlin as soon as possible. Did you not know that I was yours from the moment you saw me?”

 

Her tone implied a challenge where the only correct answer was yes. Uther laughed and hugged her close.

 

“But of course. I suppose I cannot blame Arthur if his choice was as immutable as mine was when I found you.”

 

“Their first meeting was prophesied after all,” She whispered as if it was a great secret. Playfully, Uther leaned in to hear her. “Many oracles foretold they would be complements of each other and become the most powerful pair in our history.”

 

“Like Aglain said,” Uther nodded, looking back at his son who was staring besotted at the other young man. “I have much to thank them both, then,” he continued and Ygraine sent him a curious look.

 

Uther smiled at her, cupping her cheek. “If they were meant to be, surely that means you were made just for me. Otherwise, how would Arthur have come to exist?”

 

Ygraine sent him a warm smile, placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and settled in his arms to watch their beautiful son.

 

To Uther, after all those years, everything was alright in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEQUEL in the 'Verse: The Endless Shoreline (That Binds Us)
> 
> Arthur had never been one for politics. Now, he held the highest possible seat of authority in a kingdom he barely knew. Not even the fact that he was engaged to the feisty Merlin, the most gorgeous creature ever, could make up for the endless pandering, the ridiculous protocols and the debilitating fear of screwing everything up. Still, he wasn’t one to give up either. Watch out world, King Arthur was there to stay.
> 
> Amidst potential civil wars, secret royalty, restored family bonds, weddings, treasure hunts, long lost kingdoms, rebellions, Primordial beings (bigger than Aithusa?!), the in-laws and more, the new King of Atlantis starts his reign with his irresistible Mate by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Aquaman or BBC Merlin, their characters, storylines or related films, comics and novelizations set in the corresponding universes. The franchises are property of DC Comics and BBC One/Shine Limited, and they were created by Mort Weisinger, Paul Norris and Julian Jones, et al., respectively. I am only borrowing them for the purpose of nonprofit expression of personal creative ideas in the same settings.
> 
>  
> 
> My tumblr is frozenmarvel. Come on by and say hi!


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